Rewind
by Reign of Rayne
Summary: Eight years of war, thousands of deaths, all in the conflict against Aizen. After a narrow victory, Ichigo desperately tries to keep the peace while Kisuke Urahara locks himself away in his lab. Six months later, Kisuke comes out with a declaration that could change history - literally. No pairings, time travel.
1. Chapter 1

_So technically I said in my other Bleach story that I wouldn't be uploading this for a while. Well, since I'm procrastinating my homework right now, I lied. However, please note that I will not be updating this story for a long time; I just felt like getting the first chapter up to see what the reaction would be._

_Disclaimer for the whole story: I do not own Bleach._

* * *

Chapter 1

Six months. Six long months since the monster that was Aizen fell to my blade.

Six months that felt like six years but couldn't come close to what the eight years of the war against Aizen felt like. Those had been a constant, undeniable, and inescapable Hell. If Soul Society hadn't managed to seal off the World of the Living from the spiritual realms almost entirely, the World of the Living probably would've been destroyed.

That didn't stop my family and my friends from being killed in Soul Society. Aizen, the bastard, targeted my weaknesses first. My dad—my dad managed to save Karin and Yuzu, and Orihime and Uryū and Chad escaped to the Seireitei, but Karakura Town was damn hear obliterated when it was supposed to be safe in Soul Society.

Now that I think about it, that was probably how Aizen made his King's Key. I hadn't been paying much attention at the time, because I'd been unconscious.

After Mugetsu hadn't been enough to stop Aizen from mutating yet again (he called it "evolving"; I called it "horrifying"), the self-proclaimed traitor waged war on all of Soul Society, destroying Karakura while I struggled to retain what little power I had left.

Then Urahara Kisuke, somehow, using methods I'd never understand, got the Gotei Thirteen Lieutenants and Captains to pour their Reiatsu into a bladeless sword, which, when Rukia stabbed me with it, somehow restored my powers.

The theme of "getting stabbed to get stronger" was really not something I was fond of.

Even then, I couldn't get strong enough quickly enough to stop Aizen from going to the Soul King Palace. The Zero Division kicked him out, of course, because the traitor hadn't been expecting them to be as powerful as they were. In the time Aizen took to recover, the Zero Division took Renji, Rukia, (for some reason) Byakuya, and me in.

I still remember when they broke Tensa Zangetsu. I'd been devastated (and angry until they explained that it wasn't my _real_ sword), but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I discovered my heritage. My dad . . . the smile on his face when I told him thanks, when I smiled at him, is still the first image to come to mind when I think of him.

The stupid idiot sacrificed himself so that I could get a little more training in at the Soul King Palace, and I only talked to him in his dying moments, but even then my resolve to kill Aizen had hardened into tempered steel.

With new resolve and a new alliance with my inner hollow (who was actually my Shinigami abilities, but that was irrelevant) and my Quincy powers, I went after Aizen with a vengeance.

Half the Soul King Palace was torn to shreds with all the power that was released. I'm not sure what happened to the Zero Division; one second we were fighting, the next I was back in Soul Society with a very freaky-looking Aizen and a confused Byakuya (though he didn't show it), Renji, and Rukia.

Later, Kisuke told me that the Spirit King may have interfered, but I have my doubts.

Either way, it took eight years of fighting in Soul Society and Hueco Mundo to bring Aizen down. Orihime was the first of us from Karakura to die; Uryū followed, and then Chad succumbed as well. They all died in the end, even Rukia when she saw Captain Ukitake get caught by his sickness at the worst possible moment and rushed back to help him.

Her bankai was incredible for the short time she was able to use it.

At some point during the confusion, when I was around seventeen or eighteen, I felt myself die. Not my Shinigami self, but my human body. Whatever had been sustaining it in the world of the living had stopped. It had been the strangest feeling, to know that I was dead. For the first time, I was actually a Shinigami, not a living human with a Shinigami soul. My aging slowed practically to a stop after that, making me look around eighteen for the rest of the war and the six months after. If I tried, I could probably pass off as sixteen, or even fifteen, but that would require erasing a _lot_ of expression from my eyes, things that were communicated without words that naturally shaped the way other people estimated my age.

Then the war took over and the novelty of dying faded away, taking everything else about the World of the Living along with it.

Aizen, in the final year of war—he knew he was losing, but didn't care—hunted Orihime and Uryū in Soul Society, where they had still been fighting as souls. Somehow, he found them.

He destroyed their souls right in front of me.

I snapped, then, going on a rampage. I don't remember much; according to Kisuke, I'd hollowfied completely and decimated Aizen's forces, making the man himself retreat.

All I knew was that Chad's soul was still out there somewhere. It was almost fitting that he was the only one of my friends to apparently survive the Winter War. Solid, steady Chad.

Our close bond only made it hurt more.

So, after the war was over—and I managed to gather the scattered remains of the Gotei Thirteen and get them in some semblance of order—I searched for Chad whenever possible, exploring as much of the Rukongai as I could.

One of these days, I vowed, I would find him. I promised I would.

* * *

I was about to go on another search for Chad, one of hundreds if not more that all amounted to the same failure (dammit Chad I have to find you, I _need _you), when Kisuke burst into the room looking like the doors of Hell were opening behind him.

Kisuke. I'd been on a first-name basis with him since the second month of the war, back when we still had hope. Actually, I guess we had hope the whole time; that's why we kept on fighting.

We. The all-encompassing we. The "forces united against Aizen" we.

Now it was just Kisuke and I. There was no more "we". It was just us. The survivors.

Everyone called us the heroes of the Winter War, the two men who beat Aizen.

We didn't beat Aizen.

Aizen lost, sure, but we didn't beat him.

Nobody won the Winter War. There were no victors. Nobody "beat" anyone. Aizen. Just. Lost. Kisuke and I just happened to be the two strongest survivors; I knew there were other wrecked Shinigami out there, doomed to be haunted by the Winter War for the rest of their days. Even as I clamped down on my emotions to stop from going insane, I felt bad about not being able to help them. Kisuke shut himself away even more than I did, something that didn't surprise me.

So when Kisuke opened his mouth for the first time in six months (he'd sworn an oath after Yoruichi died in a battle; the Flash Goddess had actually managed to rip one of Aizen's arms off before she was gone for good), I knew something was up.

He stopped, panting, in front of my desk, not seeming to notice that his sudden appearance had nearly caused me to draw Zangetsu out of sheer reflex.

"I did it."

Those three words were like a shot of fire into my veins. I knew what Kisuke was talking about; he'd shown me the plans, and though I had tried to be supportive, in the back of my mind I had always believed that Kisuke was doomed to failure.

_A time machine, Kisuke?_ I had asked, so tired and weary the sheer ridiculousness of the idea hadn't hit me, wouldn't hit me until two months later when Kisuke shut himself inside the remains of the twelfth division and wouldn't come out for anything.

I'd almost thought he was dead, but I was so damned busy trying to stop the survivors from killing each other that I never checked anything but his spiritual pressure.

I did that. Every day. Sometimes every hour. Because if Kisuke was gone, there was no way in hell I was sticking around for long, not if I couldn't find Chad, not if everyone I cared about was gone—

_Yes_, he had replied, though he had done so through the expression on his face. At that point, he didn't speak. I hadn't expected him to speak ever again. Not after Yoruichi was ripped apart in front of him—

_No. I can't think about that. Can't think about everyone I didn't protect. I can't, I can't, I can't, I _won't_._

"What—?" I started, running a hand through my neck-length hair in a nervous gesture I'd picked up at some point in the past few nerve-wracking months. Some of the bangs hung between and over my eyes, but they didn't bother me. I'd gotten used to them, because there was no way I was going to take a break just to get a damned haircut.

I didn't even know if it was still possible to _get_ a haircut; the Seireitei was in shambles, even after all the time I'd been spending trying to get the place back in order.

The fact that half the Rukongai had been destroyed during the fighting wasn't helping.

But Kisuke didn't let me finish. He grabbed my arm in a grip that was surprisingly strong and yanked me out of my seat. We were out the door before I even registered that his hand was holding my wrist, and by the time the thought to shake him off crossed my mind Kisuke was already flash-stepping across rooftops towards where the Twelfth Division's labs were. Well, the remaining labs. Most of them were just smoking ruins now, and thanks to Mayuri no one wanted to step foot in any place that hadn't been declared absolutely nontoxic.

I let Kisuke pull me; I was easily stronger than him, had been for years, because I'd _needed_ to be. Now he was desperate to show me _his_ strength, and so I let him drag me along, even though it felt as though my arm was going to be pulled from its socket.

The switch from sunlight to artificial light was so sudden that I didn't notice until Kisuke finally stopped, panting slightly, in a large room. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust, until I recognized the space as Kisuke's lab.

"There," Kisuke whispered, his voice shaky from disuse. I followed his finger and saw what looked like a giant rectangle covered in shockingly white pages of paper. However, as Kisuke strode forward—the way he was suddenly confident made my chest ache because he was so close to _normal_ it hurt—black suddenly striped across the pages, until the rectangle was so densely covered in writing it blended in with the wall behind it.

"Kisuke . . ." I started, not sure what to say. What could I say? The only friend I had left said he'd built a goddamn _time machine_, which could reverse everything—

_Yuzu screamed my name, her voice cracking as Aizen held her by the throat, his body so grotesque it hurt to look at, and blood was running everywhere and where the hell was Karin I couldn't see her and there was so much blood—no, Karin was clutched in his other hand but red coated her skin too__—_

"Ichigo?"

Kisuke's voice snapped me out of the flashback, and I realized I'd been gripping the handle of Zangetsu; at least, the blade at my waist. The other Zangetsu was slung over my back, wrapped in white, bandage-like material that always appeared, seemingly out of thin air, when I wasn't using the blade.

I used the blade too much.

Thinking of how I'd gotten the dual Zangetsus brought up painful memories of the battle at the Soul King Palace and I forced those images back into the box in my mind, slamming the lid and locking it. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I couldn't bring myself to give a damn. Mental health could come later, when all of Soul Society wasn't going to shit.

But, if Kisuke had actually succeeded . . .

"I'm okay," I managed, wincing as my voice actually cracked. Kisuke was the only person who knew just how much strain I was under, and he was the only person to whom I actually showed weakness. With everyone else, I plastered on a cool, emotionless mask.

Either that, or I terrified the hell out of them. Either one was preferable to the way my throat was clenching tightly, strangling my breathing and making me gasp slightly.

After thirty seconds of Kisuke putting his hand on my shoulder_—_letting me know he was there and that I was safe (because how many sleepless nights had I spent in Hueco Mundo trying to stop Aizen's armies from slaughtering innocent Shinigami only to realize they were all dead anyway?)_—_I finally calmed down enough to smooth out my expression.

"Thanks, Kisuke," I muttered, taking my hand off the jet-black trench knife at my waist.

"Ichigo."

I glanced up, realizing that Kisuke wasn't interested in any more comfort. His eyes were hard. I knew instinctively what he was going to ask, and I felt a flood of different emotions surge through me. In an instant, I'd clamped down on them and shoved them back into that box, allowing me to think clearly.

"I'll do it, Kisuke. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure Aizen—to make sure that _this_ never happens."

Kisuke grinned at me; it was a pale imitation of his former smirk, but it was better than the empty look he'd carried before. "Good. Because I'm not strong enough to go through there."

I blinked. "You're not coming?"

When Kisuke replied, he was dead serious. "If I went through there, Ichigo, I'd get ripped apart. The portal is designed to go back in time; think of it as wading through the restrictive current in the Dangai. It's designed to tear you apart."

"You wouldn't send me in there if it was going to kill me."

"You're strong enough where that won't happen," Kisuke affirmed, glancing back at his creation as if to make sure that it was still there, that he wasn't dreaming. It pained me to see him like this, but when he turned back to me there was a steely glint of determination in his eyes. "If you go through at full power, you should come out the other side with your body and powers intact."

"Should?"

That small, broken smile returned. "No promises, Ichigo."

I glanced back at the rectangle affixed to the far wall. If Kisuke couldn't make it, then no one else could.

Not even Chad.

I frowned pensively, running through multiple possible scenarios in my mind. If I needed to be at full power, then I would need to undo the seal I'd placed on myself after the war. It was similar to a Gentei Reiin, and its power was held in the shape of a black crescent moon, about the size of an eye, over my heart. I could release it without words; I'd practiced until I could. There was no telling if another Aizen could appear, and I was not going to be caught unprepared.

I smiled wryly, looking up at the time portal (the mere idea widened my smile slightly). Apparently all the training I'd been doing in the past months was actually going to pay off a lot sooner than I was expecting.

"Give me a day, Kisuke," I said, turning to face my old friend. "I need that long to . . ." I couldn't finish, but Kisuke knew what I meant.

If I wasn't prepared to see everyone alive again—because I trusted that Kisuke's invention would work (it had to)—every emotion in that box would come pouring out and I wouldn't even be able to say my own damn name without wanting to scream.

"Meet me here in twenty-four hours," Kisuke said, and we clasped hands. There was so much I wanted to say, but I summed it up in one word.

"Thanks."

There was nothing else to say. Kisuke nodded, and I went out of the lab, using Shunpo simply to stretch my muscles. I kept going, past the broken walls of the Seireitei—I'd wanted to get those fixed, eventually, just so they could go back to the Soul King's dimension, if it wasn't still sealed off—past the known districts of the Rukongai, moving at speeds that not even Yoruichi could match because I blended Shunpo and Sonido and it made the world just _blur_.

The speed was intoxicating, but eventually I stopped in a clearing, deep in a stretch of woods, one of the few that hadn't been leveled during my final battle with Aizen.

I remembered thinking after the final battle, as the dust slowly cleared from the air, that I'd probably destroyed Soul Society.

I remembered not caring.

The clearing was peaceful, and the sun cast shifting shadows through the branches of the trees at the edges. Wildflowers bloomed in the grasses, adding splashes of color to the dominant greenery. Carefully, I sat in the middle of the space, laying my large Khyber knife and trench knife—my Zangetsus—across my lap and taking a deep breath. The breeze played across my bare skin, exposed because my Shihakushō was ripped up to the shoulders and I'd never bothered to get a different look. It exposed the tattoos going across my forearms, black markings that came with my Shikai. Another x-shaped band stretched across my chest, also slightly visible.

Taking another deep breath, I closed my eyes and breathed out, focusing my energy on the swords across my lap and allowing my Reiatsu to flow into them, until I left Soul Society behind.

I blinked, taking in the cloudy sky from my position on the side of a blue skyscraper.

**"HA!"**

A white version of Zangetsu—the large Khyber blade—stopped millimeters from my neck, held in place by the black and white guard that wrapped around my neck, another souvenir of my Shikai release. Beneath the guard, a web of glowing blue veins spread, only fading when I released Blut Vene.

I didn't otherwise react to the attack, instead turning to face the wielder of the blade with a raised eyebrow and a slight frown. This was followed closely by a heavily sarcastic, "_really_?"

A white copy of me, identical in every single way except color, withdrew his sword and sheathed it across his back, allowing the blade to be held there by the white chain that was woven into his white Shihakushō, nearly invisible, exactly like the one in mine except that mine was black.

**"C'mon, King," **Zangetsu drawled, grinning. **"This is the first time you've been here in weeks!"**

"Not to mention that you blocked us from communicating with you," another, deeper baritone added. I turned slightly and saw the manifestation of my Quincy abilities—the _other_ Zangetsu—standing on a flagpole a few meters away. I didn't miss the reproach in his voice.

"I'm sorry about that," I said quietly. "I just . . . needed some time to think."

Zangetsu snorted. **"Right. You _got_ yer time, King. You gotta face facts eventually."**

"He is correct," Old Man Zangetsu concurred. I blinked.

"Sorry."

**"Che. Idiot."**

Zangetsu didn't look particularly offended; we'd had this weird kind of friendship (it ran so much deeper than that, but I couldn't describe it any other way) during the war, and it had only solidified as the truth about my abilities was revealed. Now, we were practically the same being.

If you didn't count that he was technically a hollow and that he had somewhat homicidal tendencies, of course.

"You heard everything that Kisuke said, right?" I asked, taking a seat on the skyscraper. I missed the sun in my inner world, but frankly it was lucky for me that it wasn't pouring. It had taken me a solid two months of meditation just to feel calm again to the point where I could speak with someone without feeling my emotions come pouring to the surface.

"Of course," Old Man Zangetsu said, staring down at me. "You may have blocked us from your mind, but we can still hear and see through you."

Zangetsu waved a hand in his other's direction as he lay down on the building's surface, not bothering to say anything out loud.

I took a deep breath, for once wondering why I'd shut myself away from these two. They were _me_, right? They were pieces of my soul.

Then again, I hadn't really been thinking rationally after I defeated Aizen.

In the distance, thunder rumbled dangerously. Zangetsu, who had been lying down on the building with his eyes closed for all of five seconds, cracked a single gold and black eye open to stare at me.

**"Cut it out, King," **he growled. **"Yer not getting' anywhere, thinking like that."**

"I know." I took a deep breath and then sighed, leaning back and imitating the position of my inner-hollow-turned-Shinigami-powers. Old Man Zangetsu, the embodiment of my Quincy powers, stood on his pole, staring down at me with an unreadable expression. I'd long since given up trying to figure out why he enjoyed doing the whole "standing on poles" thing.

There were bigger things to worry about.

There was another rumble of thunder, followed by a grumble from Zangetsu. **"King . . ."**

Despite the fact that we were supposed to be partners, he insisted on that title. Just like Old Man Zangetsu's obsession with standing on poles, Zangetsu wanted to stick with his titles.

"We will help you, Ichigo," Old Man Zangetsu said, his deep voice carrying to me easily. "You know that we will always stand by your side, no matter what."

I grinned tiredly, the expression feeling strange on my face after so long.

* * *

Feeling strangely calm, I headed back towards Kisuke's lab, Zangetsu slung over my back and sheathed at my waist. Theoretically, I could seal the blade, but during the war that had been a moot point even as I learned all I could about Reiatsu control to try and get an edge on Aizen only to find that control didn't do me any damn favors when my allies were massacred in front of me.

So I kept Zangetsu in Shikai.

Kisuke was already there, also strangely calm.

"Did you find him?" He asked quietly, knowing without needing to be told that I'd searched for Chad for almost the entire previous night after getting out of my inner world.

"No," I replied, taking a deep breath. "But . . . I'll fix this." My eyes met Kisuke's, and if he was surprised at the fact that they were glowing with blue resolve, he didn't show it. "Chad will never be lost in the first place."

Kisuke nodded, having made peace with what he was about to do a long time ago. He bustled around the room, activating dormant Kidō spells and making the previously still writing on the rectangular gate begin to shift and flicker with energy while he told me what I needed to do. I paid attention carefully, until Kisuke stopped in front of me.

"One shot, Ichigo," he warned.

"That's all I need."

We shook hands for the final time. I wasn't going to get this bond with Kisuke back, and I knew that. But it was something both of us were willing to sacrifice if it meant that others could be spared the same pain.

"Thank you for everything, Kisuke," I said. I meant _everything_; the Shattered Shaft, the training, the advice, everything that Kisuke had ever done for me. He smiled, genuinely. He still felt guilty about that, I knew, but I was determined to let him know that I was grateful for it, happy that I could protect everyone. Or at least try to.

"It was my pleasure, Ichigo."

And then we separated, everything we needed to say resolved in those few brief seconds. Kisuke signaled me from behind a barrier, and I took that as the sign to let my power loose. After making sure that Zangetsu and Old Man Zangetsu were ready, I released the seal on my power. New energy surged through my veins, but I kept a tight grip on it, shaping it. Without a word, I entered bankai, feeling the oversized Khyber knife that I'd drawn shift into a black daitō with a chain hanging off the hilt and a manji as the guard. The trench knife had seemingly disappeared, but I could feel it, armor beneath my Shihakushō, stronger than any Blut Vene.

Still my power grew, and winds whipped through the lab, kicking up dust and debris that spun in circles around me. I ignored that, allowing the chain of Tensa Zangetsu to wrap around my right arm, going up to the shoulder, stopping right at the ripped portion of my Shinigami robe as by powers merged together completely. The remaining chain segments hung down, and the manji that had made up the guard of Tensa Zangetsu expanded as the metal around Tensa Zangetsu's hilt wrapped around my hand in a kind of metal glove, going to just past my wrist.

Next came the hardest part, the transformation that had taken me two years to master to the point where it didn't almost kill me. It was the only state that allowed me to kill Aizen, and that was after nearly five years of constant training to be able to use it again after having it nearly kill me the first time. All that training, just so it wouldn't drain me of my powers completely.

There was a surge of black Reiatsu around me—_my_ Reiatsu—and Tensa Zangetsu melted entirely, becoming black, bandage-like material that wrapped around my chest and arm that slowly lightened to become gray, leaving my left arm bare save the black markings that wound around it, mimicking the dark Reiatsu that was now leaking from my right arm. Without needing to look I knew that my hair had turned jet-black, and my eyes a bloody crimson. I felt the gray material cover the lower half of my face, could feel it brushing up against my skin, and I knew I was finished.

Carefully, I stopped the Reiatsu from leaking from my right arm and focused it inward, until my power was a tightly maintained maelstrom inside of me. In this state, even I could barely control my power. I felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck as I focused on not accidentally wiping out everything around me.

"Kisuke," I managed, clenching my hands into fists as the winds from my transformations faded, "now."

There was a flash of light in the portal; without pausing, I leapt into it, going so fast that even Kisuke, one of the most respected men I'd ever known, couldn't track me.

The tunnel was dark, suffocating. My power exploded out of me in a protective barrier as shadows I could barely comprehend reached for me, trying to drag me into an endless abyss. Shrieking noises echoed in the dark but I ignored them, sprinting as fast as possible without using Shunpo or Sonido. Both Zangetsus were fused with me, and I could feel their wordless and selfless support and I ran, focused on a dim light at the end. I remembered Kisuke's instructions: _focus on a certain point and go there. Remember that, once you get out, you're going to be drained for a few hours, so try not to go somewhere where you might get killed immediately._

He'd almost smiled after saying that.

And then I was reaching for the light—I took the briefest of seconds to reflect on the irony of the idea—and there was flash, a burning heat that took my breath away, and then an all-consuming darkness that trapped me so completely I was unconscious before I even knew what happened.

* * *

Yoruichi Shihōin was a lot of things. Surprised was typically not one of these things; as a former captain of the Second Division and Onmitsukidō, it took a lot to get any kind of reaction from the golden-eyed ex-noble.

Recently, however, there was one thing—one _person_—that was surprising Yoruichi more than any other.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

After Renji Abarai had arrived at the secret training grounds and told Ichigo that Rukia's execution had been moved to noon the next day, Yoruichi had expected the boy to give up. The former captain was plagued by doubts; no matter what Kisuke said, there was no way that Kurosaki Ichigo could reach bankai in just three days, not with the way his spirit energy was growing. It simply wasn't feasible.

But then Ichigo had thrown that doubt back in her face with newfound determination, smashing the blade he had to the hilt and declaring that, if finishing the next day was no longer an option, he'd finish _today_.

Renji Abarai had gone to a different corner of the training grounds with the manifested spirit of his Zanpakutō, leaving Ichigo and Zangetsu in peace.

Yoruichi had expected them to begin training again right away. However, something was hovering just beyond the edges of her senses, making her feel on edge. It was similar to the ominous feeling that the former captain had sensed before Renji had appeared; yet, this time, it was even less defined.

But Ichigo and his Zanpakutō spirit seemed frozen in their tracks, unresponsive and evidently ignorant of the strange feeling, even as Renji's spiritual pressure went up some distance away. From the noises coming from that direction, Renji was engaged in combat of some sort.

Yoruichi had called to Ichigo to get a move on or they wouldn't have any chance—

So when Ichigo suddenly collapsed and his Zanpakutō spirit reverted back to the doll, Yoruichi was surprised.

Her first thought was, _is the training too much for him? But his spiritual pressure is still—!_

Then Reiatsu began gathering around the boy in circles, whipping up dust in a gradually building tornado of energy. The presence that Yoruichi had sensed increased tenfold, and then vanished without a trace.

At the same time, Ichigo was completely enveloped by a personal whirlwind that completely hid him from sight, even to the keen-eyed Goddess of Flash. Yoruichi was helpless to intervene, stuck in place by a feeling that she couldn't identify. Her eyes stung as dust flew into her face and she blinked. As soon as she did, the ordeal was over, the only sign that it had ever happened being the gradually settling debris.

However, that was not what surprised or shocked Yoruichi Shihōin the most.

Ichigo Kurosaki, the boy she had taken in personally to help train for bankai . . . was gone.

In his place was a man with incredibly long black hair and a height that was at least four inches taller than Kurosaki. Yoruichi, freed from whatever feeling had paralyzed her, used Shunpo to get closer, frowning. The man had bandages—no, not bandages, they were something else entirely—wrapped around his chest and right arm, leaving his left arm, which was covered in strange black markings, bare. The gray material also stretched over his face, obscuring everything below his eyes behind a mask.

Yoruichi had no idea who the man could be, though he was definitely wearing the bottom half of a Shinigami uniform, along with sandals.

The final straw was that the man was _silent_; his Reiatsu, even when he appeared to be unconscious, was completely undetectable. Yoruichi couldn't feel a thing from him. The Shihōin princess's heart was pounding in her chest, but she let her training take hold. Carefully, she placed various Kidō bindings on the unconscious man, careful not to touch him in case that would wake him up. Kidō wasn't her strong suit, but training in the Onmitsukidō taught her how to restrain a target effectively.

When he woke up, Yoruichi vowed, she was going to have some questions for him. Her saving grace was that Renji didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss, most likely because he was engaged in his own bankai training, and didn't have time to worry about someone else.

This situation would be rather difficult to explain to him.

* * *

_A/N Yeah, Ichigo is going to be close to godlike in terms of power, but he'll keep it sealed most of the time. I really just wanted to see how he'd react mentally to going back in time._

_Updates will not come for a while, probably not until I finish my other Bleach story._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	2. Chapter 2

_Please note that this is the last update for a while. I just wanted to get this chapter out because you guys seemed to like this story so much. I may update again before _Ichigo, Meet Ichigo_ is completed, but with school coming up that's highly unlikely. Sorry._

_The difference between Ichigo's inner hollow Zangetsu and the Quincy Zangetsu: Ichigo's true Shinigami powers are referred to as just Zangetsu. The Quincy abilities are simply Old Man Zangetsu. While in bankai, Zangetsu becomes Hollow Zangestu, and Old Man Zangetsu becomes Tensa Zangetsu._

_Note:_

_Ichigo in his own mind._

**_"Zangetsu in Ichigo's mind" _ "Zangetsu in the material world"**

_"Old Man Zangetsu in Ichigo's mind" _"Old Man Zangetsu in the material world"

* * *

Chapter 2

The first thing I became aware of was a dull, muted light that filtered through my closed eyelids. Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking to clear the remnants of sleep from them.

Suddenly the memory of what I had done crashed down around me, but panic was foreign to me and I reigned in my emotions and looked around, noting that I was still in my inner world. It wasn't raining, which was a good sign, and the buildings weren't deconstructing into billions of white boxes, which was also a good sign. I took all of these into account and decided that I wasn't dead.

Given that, there was a high probability that Kisuke's invention had worked. If that was true, and I'd actually ended up at the point where I wanted to end up—which was my bankai training with Yoruichi—then I would need to speak with Yoruichi immediately.

With that thought in mind, I pulled myself from my inner world, knowing that since I was in Mugetsu state I wouldn't be able to speak with my Zanpakutō spirits.

When my eyes opened for the second time, I realized that the light was a lot brighter than the diffused gray that filtered throughout the inverted world in my mind. I registered a painted ceiling and a rocky wasteland with dead trees first, and the emotionless, purple-haired woman standing in front of me second, because she wasn't a threat in my mind.

Then I blinked again.

_Yoruichi._

Fuck, Kisuke's invention _worked_. I was in the training grounds, as far as I could tell, and that was _Yoruichi_ standing in front of me, alive and well. Extending my senses, I felt Renji a ways away, clashing with Zabimaru. Briefly, I was irritated, since I'd been aiming to get here on the first day of training, not the second.

"Who are you?"

My eyes snapped to the Goddess of Flash, who was regarding me coolly, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. However, after spending so long with her, I could see the nervousness in her gaze, hidden so well that no one else save Yoruichi herself should be able to see it.

In this timeline, anyway. Silently, I thanked my Zanpakutō spirits for the help they had provided me in the twenty-four hours I had taken to prepare myself for this. The very sight of the Shihōin princess was causing a dull ache in my chest, but it was negligible compared to what it could've been. Without all that mental preparation, I would've been . . . well, a wreck.

"I won't ask again," Yoruichi repeated, her voice hitting me like a whip. "Who are you? And what have you done with Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Right. I'd probably replaced the old version of me in this timeline, since two of Kurosaki Ichigo in the same timeline would probably cause the universe to implode. Not for the first time, I thanked Kisuke's planning.

I opened my mouth to speak, and then realized that it wouldn't do anything. Not when I was still wrapped in the gray, bandage-like material of Mugetsu. It was sheer luck that I had subconsciously clamped down on my Reiatsu to prevent it from leaking out while I was unconscious at the last second before I blacked out. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that I knew Yoruichi well enough. I was almost positive that she wouldn't attack me, but I couldn't be sure.

Slowly, I let the power of Mugetsu slip through my fingers, until the gray material began cracking. Yoruichi's eyes narrowed further, if that was possible, and she tensed, but other than that she didn't react as the "bandages" slowly melted off my person and formed a blade attached to my right hand, currently bound behind me by some level of Bakudō. If I wasn't careful, I knew, I would accidentally snap all of the restraints off, and then talking to Yoruichi would get much more difficult.

Keeping a tight reign on my power, I reached deep inside of myself, to the core of my soul, and _yanked_. Involuntarily, I hissed through my teeth at the agony that surpassed anything else; pulling apart my soul, separating the merged forms of my power was agonizing in a way that passed all description.

Dimly, through the fire that flowed through my veins, I could feel Yoruichi dropping into a defensive stance, clearly expecting me to attack.

And then it was over, and the pain faded, and I could think straight again. The top half of my Shihakushō, which had returned after I dropped out of Mugetsu, felt cool against my hot skin.

Even now, despite the fact that I was only in bankai—not even my merged, _full_ bankai—my Reiatsu was completely undetectable, which was probably for the best. Otherwise, everyone within a kilometer radius would be suffocating.

Since going into shikai would automatically bring my Reiatsu down to levels that others could sense and I didn't trust myself to keep my spirit pressure restrained right now with _Yoruichi who was supposed to be dead_ standing in front of me, I remained in bankai.

Yoruichi, whose eyes had slowly widened as my appearance changed—_did the orange hair give it away, Shihōin?_ —Let out a small gasp when my eyes opened again, revealing their amber color.

"Yoruichi," I said calmly, somewhat pleased that my voice didn't waver. "How've you been?"

Her face was absolutely priceless as she managed to strangle out, "_I—Ichigo_?"

I couldn't help the slight smirk that appeared on my face. Maybe it was seeing the Shihōin princess alive again that triggered the surge of _happier_ emotions in me, but I didn't care.

_Thanks, Kisuke._

"Don't move," I ordered, instinctively using the tone I'd adopted during the war to get immediate obedience. Yoruichi stiffened in surprise as I stood up, the bindings falling off they like they weren't even there. Training from the Flash Goddess herself had taught me how to shake off any binding in moments, not to mention how to move quietly and suppress my Reiatsu.

Tensa Zangetsu felt comfortable in my hand and I slung the blade over my back, letting black bandages wrap around it. I'd discovered that I could sheath my bankai like that a ways into the war, since going into shikai was practically suicide.

"So," I said, looking straight at Yoruichi. "Questions?"

She took a moment to collect herself—I was impressed at how quickly she managed it, given the situation and what she'd just witnessed—before she spoke.

"Ichigo, is that your bankai?"

Clearly, she was referring to Tensa Zangetsu, strapped across my back. I smiled slightly. "Yeah." Then a thought crossed my mind. "Actually, I think I can get some other people to explain some things."

Closing my eyes, I reached into my mindscape, sensed the two presences residing there, and _pulled_.

When I opened my eyes, there were two more beings standing on either side of me. Young Tensa Zangetsu was to my left, while Hollow Tensa Zangetsu (I referred to him as "Hollow Zangetsu" just to keep things clear while in bankai) was to my right. Thankfully, Hollow Zangetsu didn't have his mask on or his blade drawn, which probably would've provoked Yoruichi into attacking him.

"Aren't you Zangetsu?" Yoruichi asked pointedly, staring at Tensa Zangetsu to my left. "At least, in bankai form?"

"Yes," the apparent teenager answered, his icy blue eyes unreadable. "I am Tensa Zangetsu."

"Heaven Chain Slaying Moon," Yoruichi mused. "Nice name."

"Thank you."

However, Yoruichi wasn't done. Her gaze switched to my right. "If he is Tensa Zangetsu, then who or what are you?"

Hollow Zangetsu, who had no sense of tact, grinned in his usual sadistic manner. **"You don't remember me? That hurts. You threw away my mask."**

The Flash Goddess' eyes widened in understanding at his words. "You are Kurosaki Ichigo's inner hollow."

**"Yep."**

"Actually," I intervened, before Yoruichi could jump to conclusions, "he's not _really_ that—"

**"Ruining the moment, King," **Hollow Zangetsu muttered, but I ignored him.

"—whole inner hollow thing. He's my actually my Shinigami power. And my inner hollow."

"Both?"

Yoruichi was somewhat surprised from what I could tell. Apparently, Kisuke hadn't told her that much about me even in this time. Either that, or Yoruichi had been gone so often the enigmatic shopkeeper had never had the moment to tell her.

"Yeah, both." I sighed, realizing that things were going to start getting weird now. "Anyway, I should probably apologize."

One of Yoruichi's eyebrows crept up. "Apologize?"

"Well," I said, the picture of seriousness, "I may have killed myself."

In the end, it took exactly twenty minutes to convince Yoruichi that I was from the future, and to convince her that Hollow Zangetsu was _not_ a threat, and that I _was_ there to help, and that Aizen _was_ going to die the next day. It took another five minutes to convince Yoruichi that there was _no way_ she could tell anyone else, except maybe Kisuke. If everyone knew I was from the future, there were going to be a lot of questions that I really didn't want to answer, and Mayuri would stalk me for the rest of eternity. No matter what, though, Aizen was going down.

There was no way I was letting the future happen any other way.

"Kisuke sent you back," Yoruichi mused, staring me up and down. She had taken the news surprisingly well, all things considered, but I had left out most of the details, including the fact that she died. Sometimes, there were things people didn't need to know. Amazingly, Hollow Zangetsu and Tensa Zangetsu had been helpful the entire time, with Tensa Zangetsu agreeing to release small amounts of Reiatsu so that Renji wouldn't get suspicious.

"Yeah. He's pretty damn smart."

Yoruichi smirked. "I don't think he'll expect this development."

"Nope. I'm looking forward to the expression on his face."

**"Hey, King!"**

"What?"

**"What're we gonna do now? We've got a while 'till the execution!"**

It was Tensa Zangetsu who replied, since he was typically the voice of reason out of the group. "We will come up with a plan as to how we are going to get events to proceed as normal. Ichigo, you still have that battle with Kuchiki Byakuya. Aizen will be suspicious if you emerge from that battle unscathed."

I exchanged a look with Hollow Zangetsu and a plan came to mind. "I'll just go as normal, in shikai. My acting skills should be enough to pass, and letting Byakuya hurt me won't be difficult at all."

"You're going to _let_ Kuchiki attack you?" Yoruichi interrupted, her tone of voice full of disbelief and a small amount of reproach.

I fixed her with a determined look. "I need to keep Aizen from suspecting anything. Zangetsu, you're going to take over, okay?"

Hollow Zangetsu grinned. **"Sure, King."**

I knew that he was happy about our arrangement. During the war, I hadn't been strong enough, and Hollow Zangetsu frequently took over during the fighting to give me a break. We were allies, now so much more than that, and the transfer of control was almost effortless.

It was almost strange that a hollow was the one to understand me so completely.

"Ichigo . . ."

I turned back to Yoruichi, feeling the ache in my chest increase tenfold at the sympathy in her eyes as she spoke.

"What did you go through to get so strong?"

Swallowing, I opened my mouth to speak, only to have a white hand clamp over it. Hollow Zangetsu gave me an annoyed look, his golden irises shining.

**"Ya can have yer cry-fest later, King," **he growled. **"We need to get shit ready."**

I barely had time to blink before Hollow Zangetsu's grip shifted and I was yanked away from Yoruichi with impressive speed. Faintly, I saw Tensa Zangetsu explain something to Yoruichi—probably a fake excuse as to why we needed to be alone, a talent that I had found the bankai spirit to be disturbingly adept at—and then give chase, an annoyed expression on his face.

Whatever conversation was coming next was not going to be fun.

* * *

Yoruichi stared in the direction that Ichigo had gone, dragged off by the spirit of his Zanpakutō. Her mind was spinning, but she didn't let a single hint of that confusion show on her face. According the Ichigo—the future Ichigo—the _past_ Ichigo was no more. In order to prevent a paradox that could've destroyed everything, the future Ichigo had essentially _replaced_ the past Ichigo.

For some reason, Yoruichi kept returning to the same thought: _well, at least he got bankai_.

If Kisuke could see her now . . .

However, Yoruichi couldn't shake the fear that held her in place whenever Kurosaki Ichigo made eye contact with her. It wasn't that he was overtly threatening; but the unnatural grace with which he moved, the utter lack of detectable Reiatsu, and the strangely emotionless mask he held on his features all accumulated to something that was disturbing.

Whatever Ichigo had gone through in the war, Yoruichi knew, it had been so much worse than he said.

No wonder he didn't want anyone else to know he was from the future.

_I could explain the physical changes as a side-effect of his bankai,_ Yoruichi mused. _And his sudden increase in power as a merging with his hollow side._

She decided on that. It was believable, at least. Only Kisuke would know the truth.

For now.

* * *

Around a day later, I raced through the Seireitei, my face emotionless. I was about to save Rukia for the _second_ time, and then I would have to let myself get stabbed by Byakuya, and _then_ I would have to let Aizen do his big reveal, and _then_ I would kill that traitor.

I would make him _pay._

**_"Don't forget about us."_**

_"We will assist you with whatever you need, Ichigo. Just make sure that you do not let your anger get the best of you."_

_Thanks, Old Man. Zangetsu, there's no way in hell I can forget about you. You're too obnoxious._

**_"Fuck you."_**

_"Fuck you too."_

I could've gone straight to Sōkyoku hill, but I had time to kill and frankly I was looking forward to throwing Rukia at Renji again. There were some things I just had to take advantage of.

Thanks to some effort, I was back in Shikai, Zangetsu strapped across my back and sheathed at my waist. The blades' weight was comforting, and just because I could I went at max speed, streaking through the air at speeds that even Yoruichi would be challenged to keep up with. It was exhilarating, and I hopped from Rukongai district to Rukongai district, not knowing where I was going. It was just so good to see Soul Society in one piece again.

**_"Oi, King. Ya better head back to the hill. The princess is gonna get executed soon."_**

_"The hollow is right."_

**_"Listen up, you can say my name, you pole-loving, stick-up-your-ass piece of—"_**

_That's enough, Zangetsu. I know you're tense, but come on._

I could feel Zangetsu's wave of disappointment.

**_"It's not my fault we're not gonna fight anyone challenging in this timeline."_**

_"Then we will spar."_

_See? Listen to the Old Man. Now let me go save Rukia again._

**_"Che. Fine."_**

Thankfully, he went quiet, and I turned my attention back to where I was going; at top speed, it would take me a little under a thirty seconds to get to Sōkyoku hill. The cape Yoruichi had given me—she'd smirked when she'd done so, noting that I'd probably already seen it—billowed in the wind, and even I had to admit that literally flying was pretty cool.

A wave of intense heat washed over me and I recognized the distinct spiritual pressure of the Sōkyoku, brilliant in its fiery form. It spread its wings, and I recognized it as the moment before it went to incinerate Rukia into nothing.

Yeah, like I was ever going to let that happen.

In an instant, I was hovering in front of the phoenix, Zangetsu on my back, holding off the power of a million Zanpakutō. _That has to be an exaggeration. I can feel its power, sure, but it didn't even move me when it tried to strike._

Casually, I looked at Rukia and grinned. "Hey."

_Seriously, the Sōkyoku is weaker than I remember._

**_"Maybe 'cause yer the most powerful being in Soul Society, King."_**

_That's just being arrogant._

**_"Somethin' ya excel at."_**

_I thought we got over this!_

**_"Doesn't mean I forgot."_**

I mentally groaned, but let the topic drop since Rukia was yelling at me. _So much for being at peace_, I thought with a slight smirk. At least the looks of shock on the captains' and lieutenants' faces were still as priceless as I remembered.

"What's it going to take for you to finally realize?! You can't defeat my brother!"

Yep, there was Rukia's little mini-speech. I'd been looking forward to that.

"He'll kill you for _sure_ this time! I'm not asking you or anyone else to rescue me! I'm _resigned_ to my fate! GO AWAY!"

Did she not see that I'd stopped the Sōkyoku? I mean, now that I was doing this the second time I realized that that was a pretty big oversight on her part. Yeah, Byakuya was more of a skill challenge, but stopping the Sōkyoku probably took a lot of raw power.

Speaking of the giant spear, I no longer felt its pressure on my back. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it rear back and screech. The noise was deafening. The sheer pressure generated from the sound pushed me forward a step, and I heard Rukia shout my name in worry as I turned to face the firebird.

Please.

"Backing out to prepare for a second attack, huh?" I asked, confident because I knew _exactly_ what was going to happen next. "Bring it on."

"You'll never be able to stop it a second time!" Rukia shouted, her voice cracking. "Enough already Ichigo, you've got to quit!" When I didn't move, she continued, her words full of pain. "Ichigo, please! You'll be torn to pieces!"

The Sōkyoku tensed—can a construct of fire tense?—and then rushed forward, fully intent on incinerating me. For the sake of repeating the past, I flew towards it as well, one hand on the cleaver blade of Zangetsu.

Before we could meet, a thick brown cord wrapped around the Sōkyoku's neck, halting it in its tracks. I stopped as well, waiting while the spear on the other end of the cord fixed itself to the ground below. As I remembered, Ukitake appeared, holding another Shihōin artifact; it was some kind of shield, from what I could see. Captain Kyōraku was now by Ukitake, his hand on the spear thing implanted in the ground.

Mayhem ensued, with Suì-Fēng trying to maintain order and failing, probably due to her overweight lieutenant. How that guy got onto the stealth force is something I'll never know or understand.

Golden light ripped through the cord wrapped around the Sōkyoku, emanating from the Eighth and Thirteenth captains' position. When the light hit the Sōkyoku, the phoenix exploded in a brilliant shower of flames. Seeing it for the second time only made it better.

"Might as well use the diversion," I muttered. _Like last time_, I added mentally, back flipping onto the Sōkyoku stand. Rukia, ever ignorant of just how strong I was, looked at me as I unsheathed Zangetsu's cleaver blade. The bandage wrapped around the hilt making up the grip expanded and I grabbed it, using it to spin the blade around much like Zangetsu did.

**_"Yer lucky I taught ya to do that better."_**

_I already said thank you. Now shut up._

"Ichigo, what are you doing?

"Isn't it obvious?" I replied, letting my resolve show with a blue glow in my eyes. _Rukia won't be dying today. Aizen will._ "This stand—" pause for dramatic effect—"is about to tumble down."

Rukia's eyes widened further. "That's crazy! Ichigo, you can't! You'll only end up killing us both! The Sōkyoku is too strong!"

"Don't worry about it," I replied, tugging on the bandage and catching Zangetsu by the hilt. "Just shut up and watch."

I heard her mutter my name in shock at my confidence, but I ignored her in favor of plunging Zangetsu into the stand. For a moment, nothing happened, but then I channeled a small chunk of my Reiryoku into the stand and it began glowing blue and shaking, tendrils of my spirit energy rising off of it. Dust exploded in a ring from my position and the light grew to blinding proportions. Then the whole thing imploded, causing a massive dust cloud to form, completely obscuring everything.

In the confusion, I grabbed Rukia and held her under one arm, hiding the smirk I was feeling. With Zangetsu slung over my shoulder, I began speaking, saying the lines I remembered so clearly.

"'Don't try to rescue me', you said," I mocked gently. "'Just go home', you said. You know, sometimes you talk too much. Good thing I don't listen. Now this is the second time I've had to tell you this." She was limp in my arms, probably in shock. "I've come here to rescue you. Got it?"

"What a fool," Rukia whispered, her voice shaky. "I'm not going to . . . say thank you." Her breath caught in a kind of half-sob, and I softened my voice.

"I didn't expect you to."

Distantly, I could hear various comments on the now-missing-a-chunk-on-the-top-and-cleary-not-so-indestructible Sōkyoku stand from the Shinigami below. _Not so indestructible now, huh?_

I was standing on top of it, of course, with Rukia under one arm, and contented myself with giving Byakuya a death glare. No matter how great he was during the war, and how much he warmed up to Rukia—and me, surprisingly—he still had a stick up his ass that was ten sizes too big.

"Ichigo," Rukia said. I glanced down at her. "What are we supposed to do now? How can we possibly disappear with so many eyes watching us?"

I grinned at the memory of what came next.

"We make a run for it."

Immediately, I felt Rukia tense right before she opened her mouth to criticize my words. It was as if she didn't remember that I was still carrying her under one arm. "How stupid! We'd never get away! Those are _captains_!"

"Yeah, we'll just kick their asses first. We're not along, you know. Uryū and Chad, Orihime, Ganju, and Hanatarō. They're all here too. I'm gonna save everyone who helped us and we're all gonna get away."

Rukia was staring at me and I kept my brave face on, forcing myself not to slip into my habitual scowl or emotionless expression, my two default looks during the war.

The sound of grunting reached our ears and Rukia gasped, twisting in my grip. "What was that?"

A second later, I spoke up. "It's about time, Renji!"

Rukia gasped—_again_—and looked at her childhood friend, who was bandaged and breathing hard, using his sword for support as the members of the Kidō corps collapsed around him. Nevertheless, he was here.

"Renji!" Rukia cried. The redhead looked up, seeing me holding Rukia.

"Rukia!" He yelled. The Shinigami of the hour twisted _again_ in my grip—like she wanted to fall—her expression so hopeful it was almost painful. For a moment, I flashed back to the moment when Renji had fallen during the war, taking Aizen's blade through the heart while trying to get Rukia to safety.

She'd been a wreck after that.

_"Ichigo, you cannot think about these things now. Remember, you are here to prevent those things from occurring."_

_I know, Old Man. That doesn't make the memories go away._

The hollow was silent, which I was grateful for. We had an understanding of what was a good time to talk and what wasn't. This would be one of the latter categories.

"Oh Renji it's you I'm so glad you're still alive!" Rukia cried, the words pouring out of her in a rush. Ignoring her, I spoke up.

"I figured you'd show up."

"What choice did I have?" He replied, smirking. "I couldn't just rely on you to save Rukia, could I?"

My smirk widened as he spoke. _I've been waiting for this._

"All right, here you go," I said, lifting Rukia above my head. She'd gone stiff, not sure of what I was up to. "Ready?" I asked.

"Wait, Ichigo!" She cried, a whole new type of fear entering her voice. On the ground, Renji's eyes were wide. "You don't really think you're going to—"

"Hey, hold on now!" Renji called. "You wouldn't dare—!"

Yes, yes I would.

"Look out below!" I yelled, a grin on my face as I hurled Rukia straight at Renji, making sure to keep my strength in check but enjoying the moment all the same.

Rukia's screaming was like music to my ears. Renji's cry of "you're insane!" was slightly less so, but still awesome. For a moment, it looked like the petite Shinigami was flying in the way she hurtled through the air.

Then she collided with Renji, both of them rolling backwards in a plume of dust. When it cleared, there was a decent-sized rut in the ground. Rukia popped up, furious.

"Damn you Ichigo!" She yelled. Renji appeared next to her, just as pissed.

"Yeah, you idiot! What if I didn't catch her?!"

Heedless of their words, I shouted down an order instead. "Take her and go!" When Renji didn't move, I repeated myself. "Don't just stand there, take her to safety! Take her far away from here!" Zangetsu went back on my shoulder and rested there while my voice took on a more serious tone, reminiscent of the war but not quiet. "That's your duty. Protect her with your life."

Wordlessly, Renji stared at me. Then he turned and ran in the other direction, carrying Rukia.

I went back to my original plan of glaring at Byakuya. He returned the glare coldly, which was fine by me. It made my urge to fight him all the stronger, even after we'd fought together for years.

The fat guy, the First Division's lieutenant, and the Fourth Division's lieutenant all went after Renji at the orders of their captains. Suppressing a smirk, I appeared in front of them, letting my hair shadow my eyes for a brief moment. Then I drove Zangetsu point-first into the ground, since I really didn't need him for this. I hadn't used him the first time, and didn't use him now.

They all released their shikai, but right as the fat guy did—what was his name again? I can't remember—I darted forward, smashing right through his mace-like Zanpakutō and knocking him out with a strong punch to the stomach. Then I deflected the First Division Lieutenant's jab with his rapier, following it with a swift uppercut that sent him crumpling to the ground. The Fourth Division Lieutenant went down a moment later—_sorry, Unohana_—her expression still surprised even as her eyes rolled up in her head.

Without a moment to spare, I grabbed Zangetsu even as Kotetsu was still falling, raising the blade just in time to block Senbonzakura. I knew my Shikai was different than the first time; the blade, while similar to my old cleaver, was jet black and had a hollowed-out portion running along the back of the blade from the hilt to the center of the sword. The other Zangetsu was sheathed at my waist, disguised in the bandages that acted as an automatic sheath and hidden by the Shihōin cloak. Hopefully, these people wouldn't care enough to notice, since most of them hadn't really seen my shikai, at least not in battle.

Even now, there was a note of triumph in my voice.

"I can see your moves, Kuchiki Byakuya," I stated, grinning. He regarded me, his face expressionless.

"Tell me why," he said flatly. "Why won't you just give up? You keep trying to save Rukia again and again." This time, I didn't even remember what I had said. The words just came out, and instinctively I knew that they were exactly what I had said nine years ago.

"You're her brother, aren't you?" I seethed. "So the question that needs to be asked is why the hell aren't you trying to save her?"

"Such a foolish question. Even if I did have the time to try and explain the principle to you, someone like you would never understand it." Feeling my anger through the way my blade shifted, Byakuya's eyes hardened. "It seems talking serves no purpose. Prepare to die." His sword burst into white light, coated in Reiatsu.

He was trying to overwhelm me. In response, I raised my own spiritual pressure, channeling a tiny fraction to Zangetsu just for appearances. After all, Byakuya could probably sense my Reiatsu, and even though I was keeping it down to the level of a captain there was always a chance I could let it slip.

With a roar, I pushed harder, and we separated in an explosion of dust. I slid back a few meters, letting things play out as they should. Byakuya regarded me coolly as the dust drifted into the air and dissipated.

"There is only one path before me," he stated. "I shall kill you, Kurosaki Ichigo, and then, once again, I will capture Rukia, and this time, I will execute her myself."

Make that a stick up his ass that was twenty sizes too big.

"I won't let you do that," I snarled, discarding the cloak Yoruichi had given me. "That's the reason why I'm here."

The only indication Byakuya gave of his attack was a slight narrowing of his eyes and the shifting of his foot. I braced myself, and we entered into a deadly dance of blades, slashing and parrying.

He was definitely skilled, there was no doubt, and I had to consciously hold myself back. Our Reiatsu poured into the air; his pink and mine light blue. It was difficult to keep my hollow Reiatsu out of sight; right now, I couldn't risk the red-and-black energy to be seen.

Byakuya let out a particularly powerful blast and we separated again, standing on two distanced rock outcroppings among the destroyed ground.

"I see you have mastered the Flash Step," Byakuya commented. "But don't think that it will change your fate; it won't."

I smirked. "What's all this casual analysis of my powers? You said talk was useless yet here you are taking it easy on me. I thought you were gonna kill me." My smirk took on a darker, slightly less sane tilt, reminiscent of Zangetsu's. "Didn't you say you intended to cut me down? You haven't even put a scratch on me yet, Byakuya." _And here comes the arrogant part._ "Does your silence mean that's all you've got? I don't believe it." _Straight to the stupid bit, at least it was the first time. _ I stepped forward. "Show your bankai, Byakuya."

He didn't move. "C'mon!' I shouted. "I heard what you said. You were gonna kill me first and then execute Rukia with your own hands!"

"So I did," he stated calmly.

"I won't let you do that!" I declared. It was so strange to show this much emotion on my face; at the same time, it felt good. I needed someone to yell at, and a pre-war Byakuya fit that description perfectly. "I'm gonna defeat you, Byakuya." Deep breath. "I'm willing to risk everything. I'm gonna crush you until there's nothing left! You act as if there's some reason why it has to be this way; you say I wouldn't understand!"

I looked up to glare at him even harder. "You got that right. I can't even imagine what kind of monster would actually threaten to murder someone's sister! But I promise you that you'll never say such a thing in front of Rukia again." I leveled Zangetsu at him, staring down the blade into Byakuya's cold eyes. "Release your bankai now, or I'll kill you where you stand, Byakuya."

"An empty threat," he said coldly. "All your boasting and bragging will not change my mind, and it will not change Rukia's fate." He shifted Senbonzakura. "Nor your own. You want my bankai? Careful what you ask for. You will die, but it is a thousand years too soon for you to die by my bankai." He closed his eyes, and his blade glowed pink. "Scatter, Senbonzakura."

The pink blades, reminiscent of Sakura petals, flew towards me in a dizzying spiral. I wanted to smirk but didn't, instead lifting Zangetsu off my shoulder and slamming the blade into the ground while channeling Reiryoku into it. A blue blast erupted from Zangetsu, blowing away Senbonzakura's blades and narrowly missing a wide-eyed Byakuya, though it did nick his shoulder and upper arm.

I savored the look on his face. There were only so many opportunities in the universe to see Byakuya genuinely shocked, and I intended to remember every one.

When the dust cleared, there was a giant trench in Sōkyoku hill. Blood dripped down Byakuya's arm, though his eyes remained fixed on me.

"Is this the true power of your Zanpakutō, Kurosaki Ichigo?" He asked.

"That's right," I answered, Zangetsu back on my shoulder and held there casually. "When I swing my sword, all of my Reiatsu is absorbed by my Zanpakutō then released in a super high-density beam. That gives it an incredibly amplified swing. _That's_ Zangetsu's power!"

**_"Kind of, King. Kind of."_**

_Shut up. I'm trying to remember things here._

**_"Yeah, and if the old man and I weren't helping you would be lost right now."_**

_"Be quiet, hollow, and help me."_

**_"Fine."_**

"You know," I continued, "the funny thing is I've never actually aimed it at anything before. Until just now I wasn't really sure how to fire it. Urahara Kisuke told me, 'I can only teach you the stances'. Now I finally know what he meant. He was telling me that there was only one who could use Zangetsu. And that was Zangetsu himself. The name of that attack . . . is Getsuga Tenshō."

I adjusted my grip on Zangetsu and drop the blade into the ground. "I'll say it once more, Kuchiki Byakuya! Attack me with your bankai now! I'm going to destroy you completely this time!"

Byakuya was quiet for a moment. "'Piercer of heaven', huh," he said. "What a pretentious name."

**_"Well you're a pretentious guy, asshole!"_**

_"Be quiet."_

**_"He is!"_**

_QUIET!_

**_"Okay, okay, sorry."_**

"All right then," Byakuya continued. "Since you're not willing to take 'no' for an answer, then see this: behold, my bankai." He lifted up his Katana in a display that was more than familiar to me, and then let go of it. I made sure to look surprised, as if I hadn't expected that. "Do not worry. This will be over swiftly."

_You wish._

"You'll turn to dust and disappear before another thought passes through your head." Ripples spread out from Senbonzakura and a procession of blades rose of from the ground on either side of Byakuya.

"Bankai. Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."

The blades exploded in a shower of deadly pink petals. Instinctively, I grabbed Zangetsu and ran forward, narrowly avoided a shower of blades that would've torn me to ribbons—either that, or they would've inadvertently revealed my Hierro, which had automatically activated. Quickly, I got rid of it.

The next few moments passed in a blur, with Byakuya launching his blades at me. Soon, I maneuvered myself into a trap in the air, tried to get out of it with a Getsuga Tenshō, failed, and—_this is going to hurt_—was bombarded with blades that cut into my skin like millions of tiny swords.

"Think of Senbonzakura like this," Byakuya stated as the dust cleared and I recovered myself in the small crater my landing had created. "A relentless barrage from all angles by billions of blades attacking simultaneously. The abilities of your Zanpakutō are more than I imagined. However, your attacks are far too broad and clumsy."

I let my breathing pick up and forcibly stopped instant regeneration from healing my wounds and getting rid of the blood dripping down my arm.

"You could _never_ evade the nimble assault of Senbonzakura."

_Actually . . ._

"Damn," I muttered. "I thought I could do better than that. I should've known I couldn't do it; I had to try though." As I spoke, I slowly got to my feet. "I guess it was stupid to think I could ever go against a bankai while only in shikai."

Byakuya's eyes narrowed fractionally. "That arrogant mouth of yours is going to be the death of you. You talk as if you already achieved bankai level."

"Yeah . . ." I looked up at him, grinning. "You catch on pretty quickly, Kuchiki Byakuya."

There was another one of his priceless shocked expressions.

Moving with determination, I set my feet and brought Zangetsu back, raising my Reiatsu automatically so that I was surrounded in a glowing blue aura that shot like a pillar into the sky. The ground beneath me shook and disintegrated and the breeze picked up in response, but everything went still for a moment as I brought Zangetsu forward, bracing my left hand against the inside of my right elbow.

"Ban . . . kai!"

The world exploded in wind and dust, which after a few moments abruptly froze and dispersed, revealing the black blade of Tensa Zangetsu—though it had circular holes punched at even intervals along the back of the blade, much like my Shikai, which only went halfway up. The manji guard was also slightly more extended than it had been, and the chain swayed in the breeze.

The black overcoat I usually wore was there; three x-shaped crosses in the middle connected it while the coat had a white inside, though I was missing the white guards I used to have on my wrists, ankles, and neck. Of course, Old Man Zangetsu's blade had transferred to a shield hidden under that coat, but he'd already agreed to forcibly prevent that shift from happening. Therefore, the other blade of Zangetsu had dissipated into spirit particles during the dust storm that my purposefully sloppy bankai release had created.

"Tensa Zangetsu," I finished.

Byakuya's face was priceless. If only I had a camera.

"So . . . that's it?" He asked. "_That_ little weapon—"

**_"Screw you too."_**

"_That's_ your bankai? It looks just like a regular Zanpakutō. Now I can see; this is no different than the day of the execution." He actually started to look angry. "What it comes down to is the fact that you enjoy treading on those things we hold sacred. What you need is to be taught a lesson." A breeze drifted through the air, stirring up the debris my bankai release had created. "I plan on showing you what happens to immature brats who try to insult our honor."

A tidal wave of pink rose up from behind the captain, heading straight in my direction as Byakuya remained stoic.

I avoided it easily, darting forward and allowing Tensa Zangetsu to rest on Byakuya's throat.

Shocked again. Kami, it never got old.

"You wanna talk about pride?" I asked, anger coating my words. "Your so-called honor demands that you kill Rukia. Takes a lot of honor to kill your own sister, doesn't it? Well if that's the kind of pride you're talkin' about you can bet your ass I'm gonna mess with it!"

With that, I jumped back. I needed Byakuya to release his second level bankai; things _had_ to play out as normal, no matter how tempting that opening might have been.

"That's the reason I got this power; your stupid pride!" Tensa Zangetsu was pointed at Byakuya in challenge. Whatever came next, I was ready.

"Tell me why. Why did you take the point of your sword away from my throat?"

I was silent.

"Well? Answer me."

Still I didn't speak. Let him talk himself out; I think that's what I was thinking the first time around.

"Arrogance destroys the footholds of victory," Byakuya stated, almost like he was reciting it. "That move of yours is _not_ bankai."

**_"The fuck do you know? All you've got is a pansy-ass bunch of petals which I'm sure would look better stuck up your—"_**

_Zangetsu! Shut. Up! Old Man, could you, you know?_

_"Of course."_

_Thanks._

Byakuya was still talking. "There could never be a bankai as small and fragile as that." I was lucky that Zangetsu was being managed by the other Zangetsu. Otherwise, my mind would be way too loud for comfort at those words. Even so, I could feel Zangetsu's indignation.

_You're not going to do anything stupid when you're in control, right?_

Old Man Zangetsu let him respond.

**_"'Course not. I hate the guy, King, but I know what we're here for. You're not the only one who grew up during that damned war."_**

Right.

"And a lowly Ryoka could _never_ attain bankai."

Kami, did he talk this much the first time?

"It's inconceivable." The blades at his feet began to glow their signature pink and drifted into the air. "With this attack, you will regret not slitting my throat when you had the chance. A miracle only happens once; your luck has run out, _boy_."

_Actually, I'm technically twenty-six. I just _look_ seventeen. Or eighteen, depending. I mean, I was actually sixteen at this point the first time around, but whatever. They haven't commented on my appearance so far, so hopefully they won't notice. And if they do, I'll say it's a side effect of my bankai. Simple._

As the second wave of pink blades in so many minutes drove towards me, I launched myself forward, beginning another, much more dangerous dance with Senbonzakura. Blades danced through the air around me, coming close to but never actually cutting me. I was too fast for that, at least for the moment.

_"Remember, you must slow down gradually."_

_I know, Old Man. I know._

Dancing through the air felt amazing, even if it felt like I was doing it in slow motion. It got better when Byakuya looked surprised again—_take that, jackass. The Ryoka _does_ have a bankai, and it's a good counter to yours._

I began circling Byakuya, upping my speed so that afterimages of myself—like clones—hung in the air behind me, indistinguishable from my real self.

"What's the matter?" I mocked. "Am I moving too slow for you? Just say so; I can move a little faster if you'd like."

"Don't get too cocky," Byakuya snapped—as much as the stuck-up noble could snap, anyway—as he reached out his hand, doubling the speed of his blades.

After a few harrowing dodged, I found myself in the air, surrounded by Byakuya's bankai. With no other option, I channeled my spirit energy to my arm and slashed each of the blades around me, rendering them useless.

_I seriously need to get a camera simply so I can catch Byakuya at moments like these._

"A miracle only happens once, huh?" I parroted from behind Byakuya, having used Shunpo to get there when he was distracted. "So, what do you call this?"

Byakuya spun as I stabbed with Zangetsu, barely avoiding being skewered by grabbing the blade with his bare hand. Blood splashed on the ground as Byakuya glared at me.

"I see," he said. "By focusing all the fighting power of the bankai in that small blade, that bankai gives you incredible power. Its size combined with its intensity allows you to fight at unimaginable speeds. Even I have to admit that the true power of your bankai is impressive." His grip on Tensa Zangetsu shifted. "Very well then. There is nothing left for me to do but to completely crush that power!"

The noble's Reiatsu skyrocketed, distorting the atmosphere and crushing the smaller rocks around us. Abruptly, it vanished, and we separated.

"Watch carefully, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Byakuya's Reiatsu became visible around him, spreading throughout the nearby area as a pink kind of fire. I stayed in a combat stance, knowing what was coming. The pink light shot into the air, surrounding the captain and I in a glowing dome.

"What you see is what happens when I abandon all defense and risk everything to kill my enemy. This is the true form of Senbonzakura." The pink walls faded to a dark blue, and then became lined with four rows of glowing pink swords that materialized almost hypnotically, like a parade of death. "Senkei, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi." He paused for a moment, and then continued, taking slow steps forward as he spoke. "Don't worry though, this is just your funeral procession. The thousand swords around you will not attack you at once, so relax. This Senkei is the form I show only to those special few enemies—" his arm glowed pink for a moment, and then a sword dropped down from the top row, losing its glow to reveal the sealed form of Senbonzakura—"who are truly deserving of my vow to kill them with my own hands. You are only the second to ever see it."

"I'm truly flattered," I said, and there was some truth to the words. I had to respect Byakuya; he may have a skull thicker than most hollows, but he had his pride, and he was a skilled fighter.

Our spiritual pressures flared up, surrounding us in hues of pink and blue, kicking up rocks.

"Here I come, Kurosaki Ichigo."

* * *

_A/N I shouldn't leave this at a cliffhanger, but I did. Anyway, you guys know (or can guess) what happens after this. If you're wondering why Ichigo didn't just out and kill Aizen, he's waiting so that he'll kill a traitor, not an innocent captain. He also wants to separate Rukia from the Hogyoku._

_Side note: every character in Bleach monologues _so. Much._ Seriously._

**_Reviews:_**

**_Guest: _**_Thank you! I hope you liked what you saw._

_**Glacis:** Wow, thank you! There are definitely better ones than this out there, though._

**_otogii: _**_I switched POV because Ichigo was unconscious. I will only do that once more-as you saw in this chapter-and I always do it with line breaks. As for who finds out, it won't be everyone, but some people will have to know, as you've seen._

**_Checkmate10:_**_ People probably haven't been using the true Zangetsu because as of right now its full abilities are still unknown._

**_Sora Labyrinth: _**_Finding stories with no pairings is hard, I'll agree on that point. Thank you for reviewing._

_Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed despite not thinking that the story was going to update soon! Please know that reviewing with only the words "please update" is kind of pointless. Those words won't change my school schedule and homework overload no matter how much I wish they would._

_Until next time,_

_-RoR_

_P.S. Some of you guys have disturbing pen names. Just thought I'd mention that. You know who you are._


	3. Chapter 3

_As a celebration of me _finally_ finishing my AP Euro work (which for the sake of my need to rant I will outline: one book with fifty half-essay questions, another book where I had to keep a double-entry journal, read the critique of said book, and then the rebuttal of said critique and then finish it off with a two-page essay, followed by collecting 25 news articles about separate countries in Europe about big issues with a three-sentance summary and explanation of each, finished up with a country profile of each country in the EU; in short, fuck AP Euro summer work)._

_Luckily, I already had this chapter typed up, so I can upload it easily. I'm happy about all the support, and I'll get into reviews at the end._

_Notes: _

_Ichigo in his own mind._

**_"Zangetsu in Ichigo's mind" _"Zangetsu in the material world"**

_"Old Man Zangetsu in Ichigo's mind" _"Old Man Zangetsu in the material world"

* * *

Chapter 3

_"Here I come, Kurosaki Ichigo."_

Byakuya and I clashed in a brilliant explosion of Reiatsu, moving around each other, flowing into each move even as the metal of our blades screamed at the constant contact.

And now came the hard part. I had already begun slowing down and dulling my fighting style, so that Byakuya now had the advantage of speed and skill. Barely a moment after I had that thought, we became locked in a stalemate, his blade pressing against my own with surprising force. Even in the past, Byakuya had been stronger than I gave him credit for.

"What's the matter?" Byakuya queried, his voice hard and his eyes flashing. "You seem to be moving much slower than when we started, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Is that a fact?" I answered, making myself grin confidently. "I can still block your sword. When you move, it's almost like you're still stationary."

Right as I finished the statement, Byakuya held out his free hand, another sword flying into it. When the blade slammed into and through my foot, pinning it to the ground, I had to bite back a cry of frustration that came from Zangetsu; he knew what we were capable of and no matter how long we talked about this plan the idea of _letting _myself get injured still . . . well, it still sucked. As my inner hollow, his frustration rolled through me in waves.

"Hadō number four," Byakuya stated, holding one finger up to my right shoulder, his expression never shifting.

_Dammit._

"Byakurai."

Lightning blasted out from his finger, engulfing my shoulder in searing pain and burning a hole clean through it. The remaining energy escaped Byakuya's Senkei, screaming through the air. It _burned_.

Biting my lip to keep from muttering the curses that Zangetsu was shouting in my head (he never repeated himself; it was almost impressive), I staggered back a step. It had taken so much effort not to immediately retaliate; the instincts that I had fought so hard to hone were not working in my favor right now, and only the control I had mastered over my emotions and actions prevented me from completely blowing my cover. This was different from holding back in a spar; holding back in a battle of life and death, even against an opponent far below my skill level, was dangerous.

"It's over for you, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"What'd you say?" I gasped, glaring at him. I let my hands shake; the nerve damage in my shoulder helped with that, and I could feel the warm blood running down my skin, creating thin trails of crimson and staining the tattered remains of my clothes and the overcoat my bankai created. _I think that's enough injuries, right?_

_"I agree."_

**_"Definitely."_**

The eagerness in Zangetsu's voice was hard to miss, and some of his bloodlust sank into me.

"I gather you thought my movements became faster after activating my Senkei," Byakuya said, irritatingly calm despite the situation. "That is not the case. All that technique does is to compress my numerous sword fragments into one blade in order to explosively increase its killing capabilities. I haven't gotten faster."

The blade he held dissipated into pink sakura petals that quickly vanished, repeating what the blade in my foot had done after Byakuya had used Byakurai.

"So you're saying," I managed, biting the words out against the pain, "that what has actually changed here is that I've gotten slower?"

"There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. You have defeated many high-level Shinigami. You have gone far beyond what anyone thought you were capable of. You even survived slashes from my Senbonzakura. But you can feel it now, can't you? Your body is dying. You're only a human; though your spirit has not been broken, there is a limit to what you can endure. You have reached that limit."

He held out a hand, the expression on his face unchanging. Another blade materialized in Byakuya's hand, which he then raised over his head while regarding me with vague distaste. "This is the end, Kurosaki Ichigo."

The blade came down.

**_"Move over, King."_**

I caught it. More accurately, Zangetsu caught it. I was pushed to the side; not exactly suppressed, like what had happened the first time. It was as though I was in the backseat, and Zangetsu was driving. I could still hear, see, and feel everything; I just wasn't the one in control.

White material began gathering on my face, forming the hollow mask I knew so well. While it wasn't the first one I had—this one had two vertical red stripes, one over each eye that stretched from forehead to jaw—it was still obvious what it was.

Zangetsu giggled slightly, playing his role perfectly. I wasn't sure if the flickers of insanity at the edges of his mind-and now my mind-were entirely faked; in fact, I strongly suspected they weren't. **"I thought I told you, King," **he said, his double-toned voice now coming out of my mouth. Interestingly, he lost the lilting accent he had gained in my inner world every time we switched control. Maybe it was because he was using my mouth or something. **"It's a big problem for me if you get yourself killed."**

"That's impossible," Byakuya said, shocked. "Who or what are you?"

Zangetsu smirked. **"You wanna know who I am?" **He giggled again, the very picture of insanity.** "I have . . . no name!"**

He swung his blade up, catching Byakuya across the chest with Tensa Zangetsu and sending the Kuchiki noble flying back.

While Zangetsu went to work attacking Byakuya the same way he had the first time, I focused on dealing with the emotions I was feeling. The problem with Zangetsu and I switching control was that I didn't only get physical impressions; I could feel what he was feeling too, and it had taken a long time for me to be able to handle that while keeping my sanity. All the impressions my hollow was feeling, every venomous sensation Zangetsu experienced was tenfold that of what I normally dealt with, and it was like flashing through the war all over again and I could practically hear the screams of dying Shinigami who were too inexperienced to hold up more than ten seconds against the forces Aizen commanded and I couldn't get to them fast enough and they died in droves that I couldn't stop that Aizen kept me from stopping and the frustration and helplessness were coming back and the anger was overwhelming-

_"Ichigo."_

Old Man Zangetsu's calming voice pulled me back from the brink, and the soothing hum of Reiatsu he sent over me subdued my rising panic, allowing rational thought to return to my mind. After a second, I collected myself fully and went to work filtering Zangetsu's emotions, making sure to be more careful this time.

Bloodlust, anger, malice, something unidentifiable but clearly malevolent—they felt like they were _my_ emotions, like _I_ was the one feeling them, and technically, I was. But Zangetsu was their owner, and while Zangetsu technically _was_ me, there was a fine line between us. He was influenced by the hollow he had fused with at his birth as my Shinigami powers—to this day I didn't know which personality had come out on top (maybe I was just insane to begin with)—and that was the only way I could remind myself that this wasn't the person I wanted to be, that this wasn't the person I was, just a reflection of the darkest parts of me.

"This twisted spiritual pressure, that white mask," I heard Byakuya say. "Are you . . . a hollow?"

**"Who cares?" ** Zangetsu replied. **"I don't have to tell you anything because as soon as I finish with you you're going to—"**

He cut himself off, and I had to admit his acting was pretty good. We "struggled" for a minute in front of a speechless and motionless Byakuya.

**"LET GO!"** Zangetsu cried. Then, as if he'd heard a response, **"You're the one who's interfering! Don't you get it? I was about to kill 'im! You would win if you would just leave it to me! You fool! DAMN YOU!"**

The mask fell to the ground, shattering into tiny fragments that soon disappeared. I took a moment to let my breathing calm down, then rubbed the back of my head.

Byakuya's. Face. Was. Priceless. _I need a camera._

"Sorry 'bout that," I said easily, as if the whole thing hadn't just happened. "That was an unwelcome interruption." Mentally, I said, _nice acting, Zangetsu._ He scoffed in response.

**_"'S not that hard. Now get on with it."_**

"Very well," Byakuya said. "I won't ask you to explain what that _thing_ was."

**_"I'm not a 'thing', asshole."_**

"I don't think either of us has enough strength to continue this fight for very much longer. We'll finish this off with one final attack."

"All right," I agreed. "But first, let me ask you just one more question. Tell me why. Why wouldn't you save Rukia?"

He was quiet for a brief moment, thinking about my words, a parody of his own. "If you actually succeed in defeating me," he eventually said, "then I will answer that question."

Byakuya adjusted the sword he held and positioned it in front of him. The blades that had been orbiting us the entire time in uninterrupted rows vanished, funneling their power into the single blade Byakuya held in his hands. His spiritual pressure exploded with white energy, which quickly shaped to form two wings connected by a halo-like shape over his head. The spiritual pressure he exerted was strong, but nothing compared to what Aizen had.

"Shūkei: Hakuteiken," he intoned, naming the technique which was reminiscent of a kind of angel.

"That's incredible," I said, and I meant it. No matter how many times I saw it, the sight was awe-inspiring. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have anything amazing to compare to that. Zangetsu only taught me the Getsuga Tenshō."

_"And that is still an incredibly powerful skill."_

_I'm not blaming you for anything, Old Man._

**_"Ya have the other technique, King."_**

_I'm not unsheathing the other blade, and I'm not giving that ability away._

"So the only trick that I really have left now," I continued regardless of my mental conversation, bracing my right arm with my left hand on my wrist, "is to compress all my Reiryoku for one final attack."

Blue-tinged black Reiatsu swirled around me in a menacing display. "Here I come, Kuchiki Byakuya!"

We charged at each other, black and white, and attacked, our two spirit energies colliding in a blinding light show. It happened so quickly that even after all my fighting I could barely pinpoint the moment when Byakuya's blade pierced my flesh; even so, I had staggered a few meters before I could recognize it.

Blood spurted from the new wound in my shoulder and I was forced to use Tensa Zangetsu for support as the wind whipped around me, having picked up in the absence of Byakuya's bankai.

_Sorry, Zangetsu._

_**"Better than fallin'."**  
_

I couldn't afford instant regeneration yet; Aizen was probably watching now that the Senkei had faded. I would have to do it at the last moment, right before Aizen made his grand escape or I would be hunted as the murderer of a loved captain (at least until the bastard's real machinations came to light).

I could hear Byakuya's blood spilling as well, and I turned just enough to see him taking those damn prideful steps away, back straight even as injured as he was. Slowly, he came to a stop, and released the broken petals of Senbonzakura he'd been holding in his hand to the wind. His blood dripped down, staining the rock beneath his feet.

"You wanted to know," he rasped, "why I would allow Rukia to be executed. Criminals must be brought to justice. Once their punishment is decided, it must be carried out. That is the way of the law."

"You honor the law even over the life of your own sister?" I asked, pushing back the pain of my wounds. They were bad, all things considered, but I'd had worse. Much, much worse. At this rate, I would be fine, so long as I was able to heal or get treatment before I bled to death.

"Sympathy towards a relative? What could be more pointless?"

"How can you say that?"

"Feelings and emotions have no value compared to the law. Luckily I've never been burdened by such useless sentiments." He looked over his shoulder, into my eyes. They were surprisingly conflicted. "The Kuchiki clan is one of the four great Noble Families. We're duty-bound to act as examples for all Shinigami. How can we enforce our laws if we ourselves are not willing to obey them?"

_You'll get over that_, I thought wryly. _Eventually.__  
_

"I'm sorry," I said aloud. "But I still can't understand. I swear, even if I were in your position I would fight the law. I would fight until I ended your stupid law!"

He turned away from me and began walking away. "Kurosaki Ichigo, because of your free spirit and reckless abandon you have broken my sword. You have my word; I will pursue Rukia no more. You have won."

And then he vanished in a burst of Shunpo, probably headed to the Fourth Division to get his wounds treated before he collapsed. Wounded pride could only get someone so far.

**_"You like this part."_**

_Only the next few seconds._

I let out a yell of pure emotion; mixing in my triumph, frustration, and anger that I couldn't do everything I needed to without letting others get hurt. I let everyone nearby know that Kurosaki Ichigo had just won a battle against a captain and was well enough to shout about it.

And then I collapsed—or, I would have, had Orihime not been behind me. While I rolled around on the ground, holding my head—for effect, of course—she babbled apologies. Eventually, I stopped and looked at her, pretending to be surprised that she was there, though I did note the blush on her face.

"Orihime? Uryū? Chad? Ganju?" I rolled onto my back, grinning slightly despite how much my chest hurt to see them.

Uryū had died a painful death, Ganju had gone down with the rest of the Shibas in a last-ditch attempt to weaken Aizen's forces, and Orihime . . . I couldn't think about the way she died, not the first time nor the second. All I could remember was the betrayal in her eyes when she realized that I couldn't protect her, that I wasn't strong enough, that her greatest ally couldn't save her. And then there was nothing but empty blankness as her body went limp but she still looked at me, accusing even in death and there was no way I could ever forget her—

_**"King."**_

My sword spirits worked in tandem to calm my storming Reiryoku, simultaneously placating my worries and distracting me from my memories. After a second of spacing out, I dragged my attention back to reality.

"It's good to see you all." At least my voice didn't come out choked.

Uryū frowned slightly. "Kurosaki, you look different." I smirked.

"Side-effect of my bankai training," I explained flippantly with a lightness that I certainly didn't feel. Then, to distract everyone from how I looked, I glanced at Orihime. "Orihime, are you injured?"

She launched into another series of babbles about how no, she wasn't injured, and went on to describe exactly what she had gone through during her adventures in Soul Society when I wasn't around. She finished off by thanking me for surviving; for rescuing Rukia and doing everything I said I would.

My smile softened. "No. Thank you, Orihime." There was a wealth of meaning behind the words that no one present but me understood, and that was fine. There were some things other people didn't ever need to know.

* * *

My musings about how my acting was going were interrupted by a sudden voice in my head that didn't belong to my Zanpakutō. Ganju was helping me down the steps of Sōkyoku hill alongside my friends (and that weird guy from the Eleventh Division), and I pretended not to hear him muttering about how annoyingly heavy I was; much heavier than he had expected.

Well, I was taller and more muscular than I had been the last time we'd talked.

_So it starts, _I thought when I heard the message.

_"All Gotei thirteen captains, lieutenants, and seated officers; may I have your attention please—and also the Ryoka. This is Division Four lieutenant, Kotetsu Isane, with an urgent announcement. Listen closely, as the message will not be repeated. This is an emergency report from Captain Unohana regarding the traitor in our midst. As grim as the following facts are, what I'm about to tell you is the truth . . ."_

She went on to explain everything, and slowly each member of our group stopped. I decided to keep acting; I needed to get up to Sōkyoku hill anyway, and I wasn't in any position to do that now, or at least not yet. I had to keep up appearances.

"You think this is all true?" I asked.

"Maybe," Ganju replied. "But it might also be the enemy's trap."

"Possible," Uryū concurred, "but I think it's probably true." He turned to me. "Don't you sense the Reiatsu that just appeared back up at the execution site?"

"Rukia," I said tightly, not caring that I wasn't as surprised as I was technically supposed to be acting.

Immediately, we were off and running up the stairs, Ganju supporting me the whole way. Waves of anticipation ran through me, echoed by my Zanpakutō spirits. And there was one emotion rising up from my core, fed from the locked box in my mind: cold, unrestrained fury.

I did nothing to stop it as I wordlessly went into bankai and flew ahead of the others, injuries temporarily forgotten.

When I arrived at the top of the infamous, I saw Renji on his knees in front of Aizen, clutching Rukia like a lifeline, Zabimaru sitting broken in his hands. Blood ran down one of his arms and pooled around his legs. With barely a word, I shot across across the hill, Tensa Zangetsu already moving to intercept Aizen's strike. My wounds meant nothing, even though they screamed in agony I clamped down on the pain.

_Just a little longer_.

"Hey there," I said. "What's the matter, Renji? The way you're crouching down, I'd almost think that Rukia was too heavy for you to hold or something. Good thing I came to give you a hand, right friend?"

Pushing Aizen's sword back gave Renji and I time to leap back out of Aizen's reach. Seeing him standing there, so calm, was nigh unbearable, but Old Man Zangetsu soothed me with calmer feelings. Otherwise, I would've gone over the edge. Zangetsu—I couldn't see him, but I could _feel_ him—was trembling with rage at the traitorous captain. Everything I felt, Zangetsu felt even more; I was amazed he wasn't trying to take control with all he was feeling.

Especially rage. And I had that in spades.

"Ichigo," Renji said.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to come."

"What happened to you?"

"Huh?"

"All you had to do was carry Rukia and look at you. Either she gained a lot of weight or you're weak 'cause you look all beat up."

My acting skills were the only things keeping my expression as sly as I remembered it being. I wasn't sure if I could hide the emotion in my eyes, but I was trying.

"Hah!" Renji replied. "Look who's talking. Maybe instead of coming here you should've gone back to bed."

Leave it to Renji to get me to feel some good old-fashioned annoyance.

"You got a lot of nerve saying that to the guy who just came here and saved your butt!" I said heatedly.

"I was about to thank you, you idiot but I'm not going to now!"

Suddenly, we both became aware of choking sounds.

_Whoops. I forgot about Rukia . . . _again_._

Renji relaxed his grip on the petite Shinigami, allowing her to breathe. After taking a moment to recover, she all but shouted in Renji's ear.

"Thanks, STUPID!" She yelled, punching Renji in the jaw. Oh, yeah. She was a little bit mad. "Do you think I'm trying to make a new world record for holding my breath? You were crushing the wind out of me! You almost killed me!"

I became aware of Gin speaking to Aizen while Rukia took out her anger on her unfortunate childhood friend.

"Sorry about that. I didn't think you wanted me to interfere, Aizen, so I let the Ryoka get by."

"No matter; it's fine," Aizen responded, his voice damnably smooth. "When you're cleaning the house it doesn't make any difference whether there's one piece of dirt, or two."

Renji and I turned to face him, hearing the insult.

"So, this is Aizen then," I said, barely managing to keep my act together. He was _grinning_. He murdered so many people and the guy had the nerve to smile like he'd just won the fucking lottery and hadn't killed my friends, my family—

_"Stay calm, Ichigo."_

I took a deep, quiet breath and settled my emotions, though my rage kept building.

"That's him," Renji affirmed.**  
**

"Do you think you still have enough strength left to get away?" I asked.

"I have enough to stay and fight, I know that for certain. That's what I'm going to do; you know it's damn useless for us to try and run. Zabimaru may be broken, but he's still got a few surprises left in him. Let's just slow him down enough to get away."

_Renji, you have no idea what you're going up against._

Despite that thought, I let arrogance bleed into my words. "Ha. Who needs a plan B? If we join forces and battle together what could go wrong?"

"Right."

Renji took a few steps away and then raised Zabimaru, putting his hand against the dull edge. "I can only use this technique a single time," he said. "But if it connects, it'll leave him wide open for a second or two. You've _got_ to strike in that opening."

"I gotcha," I responded.

A moment later, Renji raised his blade and then slammed it into the ground, his Reiatsu rising as a red aura surrounded him. "Here we go, Zabimaru! Higa Zekkō!"

All of the broken segments of Zabimaru around Aizen glowed the same red color as Renji's Reiatsu and rose into the air, hovering above Aizen for a split second. Gin took a step forward as the segments blurred with speed, firing down on Aizen in a deadly rain.

As that happened, I darted forward, glowing with my own blue aura. The urge to finish this bullshit now nearly overwhelmed me, but I pushed it back. _Just a little longer . . ._

I swung Tensa Zangetsu, allowing surprise to color my features when Aizen stopped it with a single finger, only because I was channeling only a tiny portion of my Reiatsu into the blade. I itched to fire a Getsuga Tenshō, to blow his head off, but I couldn't. Not yet. This wasn't the right moment.

Blood exploded from a serious wound in my abdomen that I had seen him make this time, and agony tore through my body in fiery streams.

"Well now," Aizen said calmly, still unfazed. "I thought I had succeeded in cutting you completely in half, but I didn't strike deep enough."

He took his hand off Tensa Zangetsu; in my head the embodiment of the blade was screaming in blind fury, destroying buildings in my inner world in a desperate attempt to stop his own hollow instincts from completely overwhelming his rational thought that would in turn overwhelm me.

I collapsed, and as I was falling Aizen vanished, cutting Renji's shoulder as he went before the redhead could so much as blink. He collapsed as well, leaving Rukia open.

My hands slowly curled into fists as I heard Aizen coax Rukia to stand up, lifting her by the collar. I shifted slightly, and Aizen saw.

"Poor dear thing," he mocked. "Is he _actually _still conscious?"

_Yes, because I'm going to tear you to bloody fucking pieces the second you separate Rukia from the Hōgyoku._

"Your stamina is amazing but your spine is barely connected to your body," Aizen stated, sheathing Kyōka Suigetsu. "You should lie still. At any rate, you have each served your purpose. Your job in all this is done now."

"Our job . . . is done?" I bit out, the pain threatening to break out of the meager cage I had trapped it in. _Let him have his moment so I can take it all away from him and tear his world _apart.

"That's correct. I knew you were coming; I even knew from where. I knew you would arrive in the West Rukongai—that's why I had security increased there; the squad members stationed at the gate. I had Gin go there as well, in case something went wrong. I lowered the wall around the Seireitei right after your arrival and placed Third and Ninth Division squads behind the gate. I knew the only way you would be able to get in would be Kūkaku Shiba's cannon, a very flashy entrance that everyone would notice; a bold approach.

"It helped that you Ryoka were skilled enough to get past the captains. As a result, the eyes of all the Shinigami were focused only on you: the perfect diversion. Your actions after you entered the Seireitei and the turmoil you caused were actually quite impressive. As a result, there wasn't very much fuss at all over me when I faked my own death. You made it easy for me to make my move."

"Hold on," I managed. "How did you know that we would come in through the west Rukongai in the first place?"

"That's an odd question for you to ask. Where else can you possibly have entered? The west Rukongai is Urahara Kisuke's headquarters, after all. It's the only place you can break through with a Senkaimon." I forced shock onto my face. "Why do you find that so surprising? After all, you work for him, don't you? Surely the reason you're here in the first place is to retrieve Kuchiki Rukia under his orders."

"I don't—" I began, but Aizen cut me off.

"I see. You poor boy. You weren't told anything, were you?" He smirked, picking up Rukia by the collar again. "Oh well." He started walking away, towards the broken Sōkyoku stand. "Since this is the end anyway, I'll tell you one last thing. Did you know that Shinigami have four basic fighting methods? Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō. Those are the four, but there is a limit to how strong a Shinigami can become in any one of them. No matter with subject he chooses, there comes a point where he will have mastered it, and all his growth will stop there. As a Shinigami, he has reached his limit.

"However, for some, it is possible to get past that wall, and exceed the limit that's built into all four techniques. And to do that, there's only one way. The Shinigami has to become a hollow."

Again, I forced myself to show surprise, even though all I was feeling was disgust and rage. By this point Aizen was stepping past Renji.

"Either that," he continued, "or a hollow can become like a Shinigami. Either way, what is required is the removal of the barrier between those two existences. That is the key to making the spirit's power even greater. In theory the idea seemed plausible; so I studied it in secret. I started testing; focusing mostly of the transformation of hollows into Shinigami. I was successful in creating hollows which came close; hollows that could hide their spiritual pressure, even one that could destroy Zanpakutō with a touch and fuse with other Shinigami."

Rukia looked horrified, and I knew exactly whom she was thinking about.

"But, in the end, none of them worked out as well as I had hoped. It appeared that the theory was only that; destined never to be a reality." He paused. "But, Urahara Kisuke succeeded where I had failed. The mechanism he invented removes the barrier dividing hollow and Shinigami, instantly making one into the other. It defied all logic within Soul Society. It's called Hōgyoku. I knew immediately how dangerous it was. I think Urahara felt the same way; he tried to destroy it, but he was unable to find a way to undo his own creation. Instead, he reluctantly resorted to another method.

"He created a shield around the Hōgyoku, and activated it, then enveloped it deep within a Konpaku in order to hide its location from anyone who would want to use it for evil." He turned to Rukia, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "You know, don't you? You know that's why I want you. Because the place Urahara decided to hide the Hōgyoku is inside you."

Rukia gasped softly, as much as Aizen's suffocating spiritual pressure would allow her too.

_Get it over with already_, I hissed in my own mind. Watching this was nothing short of torture.

"What did . . . you just say?" I said, trying to keep up appearances against my fury and I could _feel_ my inner world in turmoil and my hands were shaking.

"When I learned that you had disappeared in the world of the living," Aizen continued by way of response, "I realized right away that Urahara had something to do with it. All Shinigami in gigai are traceable by Soul Society, no matter where they go. This is because of the gigai's healing energy. But the gigai Urahara gave you was different, created by him without Reishi. As a result, it was untraceable. For this offense, Urahara was cast out of Soul Society. There is also one other reason Urahara was exiled; that gigai, like the one he gave you, one without Reishi, will constantly break down and devour the Reishi of the Shinigami using it. He will never be able to completely recover his power. It will fade, and eventually the connection with the gigai will dim. Finally, the Shinigami is reduced to a mere human. Do you understand? Urahara didn't give you any strength. He didn't help you at all.

"He _used _you, Kuchiki Rukia. He turned you into a human just so he could hide the Hōgyoku. Fortunately, before it was too late, you were found in the human world and arrested. I went immediately to Central Forty-Six and killed—"

Captain Komamura crashed down behind Aizen. There was a flash of a giant blade, and then an explosion of dust. I heard Komamura scream Aizen's name, and felt kind of bad for the captain—Komamura, of course.

I tuned out most of the confrontation, focusing on maintaining the grip I held on the pain my injuries was causing, only pulling myself back to reality when Aizen addressed me again.

"Oh, sorry. I hadn't finished explaining things to you yet, had I?"

"Ichigo!" Uryū called, arriving with the rest of my friends.

"No!" I managed to shout. "Go away!"

"Rukia!" Orihime cried.

"Oh no no," Gin said, moving in front of them. "You shouldn't be moving."

His spiritual pressure slammed down on them, sending my friends crumpling to the ground one by one.

"Now, Kuchiki Rukia," Aizen said. "After I found you in the World of the Living, do you know what the first thing I did was?" She couldn't speak. "I went in and eliminated the Central Forty-Six." He began walking again, dragging Rukia behind him. "I imagine you heard a somewhat different story from Kotetsu Isane. She probably told you I faked my death and hid my whereabouts, and then slaughtered Central Forty-Six. That's not how it happened at all. I killed them as soon as I discovered you, and used my Kyōka Suigetsu on the entire underground assembly hall. To simplify matters, I made it look as though Central Forty-Six were still alive, holding meetings.

"To do that, one of us—" he was referring to Gin, Tōsen, or himself—"remained there at all times. Since then we have taken over the functions of Central Forty-Six, and have been issuing all of their orders. To make sure of your arrest, I had those members of the Sixth Division take you in. To separate you from the humans, I ordered the return and destruction of your gigai. To evaporate your soul, and take the Hōgyoku from inside you, I decided the safest way was to have you executed by the Sōkyoku. The only times we weren't in the Assembly Hall were the few hours around the two Captains' meetings.

"After that, I pretended to die, and hid underground. Because I knew your Ryoka friends might save you, I knew the execution might fail." Aizen reached into his haori as he spoke. "When a foreign object has been planted directly into a soul, there are only two methods by which to remove it: you can use an intense thermal disruption like the Sōkyoku, which evaporates the soul around the object, or some other method which breaks down the soul's cohesion and allows them to be separated. In the unlikely event that the execution by Sōkyoku failed, I needed to find that other method." He pulled a purple cylinder out of his robes.

"Which brings us back to Central Forty-Six. You see, the information I needed could only be found in the underground assembly hall's Daireishokairō. I spent hours poring over Urahara Kisuke's research; he was the one who developed the technique of implanting a foreign object into a soul." He pressed a switch on the cylinder, and air began to circle around it. "So, I reasoned that the answer to the question of how to remove one was also hidden in his research. Yes," Aizen continued, even as green spikes shot up from the ground around him, "this is that answer."

_Sorry, Rukia. It has to be done._

Aizen's right arm turned green and before anyone could react he plunged it into Rukia's chest right as I yelled "NO!" Rukia was still, completely uncomprehending as Aizen pulled the Hōgyoku out from the hole in her chest.

"How fascinating," Aizen said, the green fading from his skin. "I didn't expect it to be so small." He blinked. "The Hōgyoku . . . ah," he said, seeing the hole in Rukia's chest close up. "And no permanent harm to the soul. What an astounding technique. It's too bad," he said, picking up Rukia, "I just don't have a use for you anymore."

"Kill her, Gin."

"Well, if I must," the man answered, turning away from my friends and drawing his Zanpakutō. "Shoot to kill, Shinsō." The blade extended, heading straight for Rukia.

Except.

Byakuya had appeared, pulling Rukia out of Aizen's arms and taking Gin's hit for himself.

"Oh no," Rukia whispered, her eyes wide with shock. "Brother!"

I couldn't watch as Rukia desperately tried to talk to her brother; I was starting to shake; the cage was breaking. Zangetsu was eerily silent in my inner world, and I turned a mental eye to him, seeing the hollow collapsed on the side of a partially destroyed skyscraper, clutching his head and rocking back and forth, trying to keep his deepest instincts at bay. There was little I could do at the moment, but the time was coming.

Kūkaku had arrived, I noted dimly, preventing Aizen from killing Byakuya with a Kidō spell performed while riding on Jidanbō. Then came Yoruichi and Suì-Fēng, followed closely by most of the rest of the Gotei Thirteen lieutenants and captains.

I registered fighting through the haze of pain my wounds had created, then the feeling of a Garganta opening.

_Zangetsu? Old Man?_

_"We are ready, Ichigo."_

Zangetsu uncoiled himself, slowly standing up even as he kept one hand holding his head. He wasn't shaking anymore.

**_"Slice his goddamn head off, King."_**

In the confusion, no one noticed the white material bubbling up around my wounds, healing them in an instant. Not even Aizen; he was too preoccupied by his self-righteousness. Yoruichi and Suì-Fēng were moments away from decapitating him, and even now I wondered why that hadn't just done so immediately.

However, the golden light of the Caja Negación shot down, seemingly making Aizen's escape a certainty. The only way to stop the technique was to close the Garganta it originated from; everyone present seemed to have forgotten that fact, preoccupied with the wounded and the words Aizen had spoken

I stood, Tensa Zangetsu dangling in my right hand by the chain as the Menos appeared in the Garganta, white hands reaching out and grasping at air as equally white faces stared mournfully down at the assembled Shinigami. For a moment, there was nothing but a light breeze moving, sending the entirety of Sōkyoku hill into a breathless kind of tension.

Then I struck.

Not even Yoruichi saw what I did; I had surpassed her long ago. Everyone was distracted, but Aizen was well aware of the moment the Garganta closed, every Menos inside of it—even that big monster lurking in the back—cut to pieces. The gold light flickered and died, sending Aizen, Gin, and Tōsen back to the ground as the Garganta slammed shut.

"Sorry, Aizen," I growled, not sorry in the slightest, appearing in front of the traitor when he landed. I channeled every single bit of hate and rage and frustration and _malice_ into the glare I sent him, letting Zangetsu bleed into my appearance and turn my eyes black and gold and make my voice layered. My full spiritual pressure—everything that I could throw into regular bankai—was pressing down on Aizen, and I saw his face redden as he struggled to breathe, much less move. It was so damn satisfying to see him tremble under my rage, to see his calm mask crack and break under the force of my hatred. **"But you won't be going anywhere but Hell."**

I would remember his face at that moment for the rest of my life. Complete and utter shock was the last expression he ever showed before I stabbed him through the heart, Tensa Zangetsu sliding through his ribcage and bursting out his back in a shower of blood. For good measure, I channeled my Reiatsu into Tensa Zangetsu while Aizen was still impaled on the blade.

**"Getsuga Tenshō."**

The explosion was nothing short of brilliant.

* * *

_A/N I hope this chapter gets the point across: Ichigo is more unhinged than he seems. He's got serious anger issues (though remarkable control), and some form of PTSD. Poor guy's only sane because of Zangetsu and Old Man Zangetsu. Out __of curiosity, do you guys think the way I portray Ichigo's thoughts (the way they get all hurried and jumbled) works with the story?_

**_Reviews:_**

**_The Unknown ShiniGami: _**_Consider Aizen pwned._

**_Souseiki no Tasogare:_**_ Thank you for the kind words and I hope you enjoyed!_

**_Moon's last stand: _**_I hope _Rewind_ satisfied your craving, if you see what I'm getting at._

**_Not-Gonna-Update:_**_ Thank you, and Ichigo definitely had his fun._

**_Chrizburrow: _**_Thank you! After reading the latest manga I got frustrated searching for "true Zangetsu" stories, so I can understand how hard they are to find!_

_Well, that's it for the reviews on the previous chapter. I look forward to hearing from you guys! _

_As a side note, this story has (as of me writing this note) 45 favorites and 84 follows. Those of you that have followed/favorited should consider reviewing if you're able, though any kind of support is always welcome!_

_Obviously, the serious canon divergence starts next chapter._

_Until next time,_

_-RoR_

_Please review._


	4. Chapter 4

_Ah, you guys really like this fic. It's my most popular one and the mollifying thing is that it isn't even a main story. For those of you who are worried about the status of _Ichigo, Meet Ichigo_, there's no need to. I can go for at least four more weeks before I would need to take a break._

_Side note: SCHOOL WILL NOT BREAK ME. Yes, story followers/favoriters/readers. I have beaten back the monster that is AP Euro, at least for the moment. I have fears that it will return, however. Alongside English, math, and a whole slew of subjects I'd rather avoid._

_But whatever. I have this chapter to tide you guys over for at least a month._

_Side note: this is for you, random guy who literally just followed/favorited right as I was typing out this author's note._

_I hope I've made it clear that I do not own Bleach._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 4

"Gin," I said, quickly turning away from where Aizen's body had been disintegrated in the heat of my Getsuga Tenshō. I had only moments before the Shinigami got their wits back. "We've gotta talk. You too, Kaname."

And then, before anyone could protest otherwise—half of them didn't even realize what had happened, too focused on the explosion to realize the source, and the other half were too dazed or confused to process what I was doing—I sheathed Zangetsu, grabbed both of the men in question and vanished using Shunido, my personal blend of Shunpo and Sonido that had taken me a full year to perfect. To the audience (save Yoruichi), I simply disappeared.

As I dragged them along at speeds that rendered them helpless to do anything but hang limply in my grip, I materialized Zangetsu, who immediately began running alongside me. Vaguely, I was aware of Gin's eyes opening, a rare demonstration of how caught off-guard he was.

"Oi, Zangetsu," I said. "I need you to carry Gin."

He scoffed. **"I'm not a pac mule, King."**

"Just do it."

**"Fine."**

He grabbed Gin, and Immediately I picked up speed due to the decreased weight. After another two minutes of sprinting, I judged that we were where I wanted to be, so I dumped the two ex-captains on the ground with as little ceremony as possible. Amazingly, they were both calm, and hiding their nausea pretty well, though the green tint to Gin's face belied his tranquility.

"My, my," Gin said, staring at me with his smile in place. "What an interestin' development, Ichigo Kurosaki. I'd never have expected ya t' be the one t' take down Aizen. Of course, that means that I should probably get revenge—" He started to move to draw his sword, but then Zangetsu was there, holding Shinsō in a mocking grip.

**"Looking for this?" **He asked, twirling the blade.

"Sit down, Gin," I ordered. "and you, Kaname Tōsen."

"What, so I'm 'Gin' and he's 'Kaname Tōsen', not just 'Kaname'?"

I stared at him, letting my gaze grow cold as I dredged up more memories of the war; the day when Gin had finally awoken from his coma and agreed to fight for the Gotei 13; the day Gin saved Rangiku's life in exchange for his own; the day of the mass funeral, when Gin's haori had been given to a Rangiku who had run out of tears long before.

Gin's smile disappeared slowly as a scowl made its way onto my face.

"Listen up, asshole," I said, wordlessly nodding to Zangetsu, who rolled his eyes but nonetheless grabbed Kaname and left, taking Gin's Zanpakutō with him. "There's some shit we need to talk about."

"Would that be yer appearance?" He inquired. "'Cause ya look taller than I remember."

"Oh, trust me," I growled. "This is nothing." I shifted my Shihakushō—which I had torn up to the shoulders on my way over to Sōkyoku hill because I could—to reveal the lattice of scars over my heart. They weren't as physically intimidating as the one on my back, but they got the job done. I could show the ones hidden by the collar on my neck, but I chose not to. "These are from when Aizen wanted to see how serious of a wound Instant Regeneration could heal." My voice was frosty when I spoke, and I knew tendrils of black were creeping over my eyes.

Gin's expression was shocked, though anyone who didn't know him well enough wouldn't think so.

"What are you sayin'?" He asked. I let my robes fall back into place and smirked.

"You got your opportunity to kill Aizen, Gin," I said. "You used your bankai, stabbed him through the heart, and blew a hole in his chest with that poison of yours. Then you grabbed the Hōgyoku and got away."

Now he was definitely surprised.

"Except that didn't kill Aizen. He hunted you down and tried to kill you; Rangiku cried over your body, Gin. She thought you had died, and she cursed you to Hell and back for what you did. The only thing she wanted to know was why you didn't trust her enough to tell her."

"How do you know this?" He asked, serious enough to drop his accent. His eyes were wide open, and their blue color was still shocking to me, no matter how many times I'd seen it.

I grinned humorlessly. "Let's just go with 'time travel' and leave it at that. Now, you've got two options: I can kill you where you stand and leave the Gotei Thirteen to find your body, or you can go back to Sōkyoku hill and weasel yourself out of whatever trouble you got into."

Gin was silent for a moment.

"One other thing," I added, gesturing to the area around us. It was a flat plain with mountains in the distance, completely devoid of life; one of the farthest reaches of known Soul Society. "This area is where you tried to kill Aizen, and where he nearly killed everyone I hold dear; the beginning point of the real war. Think about that while you make your decision."

In a burst of Shunido, I vanished, instinctively knowing that Gin wasn't going to go anywhere. I would know if he did, and it wouldn't be pretty.

I found Zangetsu and Kaname about a kilometer away, with Zangetsu twirling his shikai blade by the chain, the sword coming within a millimeter of Kaname's skin. The man wasn't moving, and I saw noticeable cuts all over his body, probably souvenirs of all the times he _did_ try moving.

Gin's Zanpakutō was in the ground a few meters away, stuck there point-first.

"Kaname Tōsen," I greeted flatly. The blind man turned to me, expressionless.

"Ryoka," he replied. I rolled my eyes.

"We both know that the whole 'Ryoka' thing is a bunch a bullshit courtesy of Aizen. Anyway, that's not what I want to talk to you about. And Zangetsu, stop spinning your blade like that. You're going to accidentally decapitate him."

**"I don't do anything on accident," **Zangetsu growled, but nevertheless he complied.

"Why should I endeavor to speak to the boy who cut down the man I followed?" Kaname answered, cocking his head slightly.

"Technically, I blew him up," I answered coldly. "Kaname, I'm giving you one chance. I know you like to follow the path of justice; Aizen's path was so far from that I'm surprised even a blind person like you couldn't see it."

"Aizen was a man of great honor."

Zangetsu growled low in his throat.

"No, he really wasn't," I snapped. "In my timeline—because if you haven't already figured it out, _Kaname_, I'm from the goddamn future—Aizen slaughters hundreds of thousands of innocent souls for the sake of his war and he even kills you when you try to renounce your ways in your dying moments. He tore children away from families, turned wandering plus souls into hollows with no guilt whatsoever, and killed nearly everyone I knew. Tell me, Kaname. Was the justice in the deaths he caused? The Shinigami he slaughtered? The hollows he created? Or was it all in the way that he did it for himself?"

I smiled humorlessly even though Kaname couldn't see my expression.

"I haven't figured it out yet. Care to enlighten me? I only had eight years of war to think about it."

Kaname's expression tightened, but he didn't say anything.

"Are you going to explain yourself to Komamura and Hisagi?" I asked mildly, giving the blind captain his last chance at redemption. I was only willing to give him this much; I didn't want him doing anything behind my back later, because I'd already had far too much experience with that.

"They would not understand."

I exchanged a glance with Zangetsu. He shrugged, unsheathed the blade he carried on his back and held it to Kaname's throat. I made no move to stop him, having had to perform this kind of execution myself countless times on Shinigami who tried to defect to Aizen's side mid-battle. Already, I had thought of a suitable story as to why Kaname would end up as a bloody heap.

Gin would help me; I hadn't been extremely close with him, but I knew that he had never really liked or trusted Kaname and had no qualms about killing the man once it was obvious that Aizen had sunk his claws far too deeply into the captain.

Distantly, I thought of a quote that Hisagi had once told me, back when we fought in the same strike team.

Whoever fights monsters should be careful that in the process he does not become a monster all his own.

The memories made a sad smile grace my lips. Sorry, Hisagi.

"Last words?" I asked, at least wanting to give Kaname some dignity. To his credit, he was completely calm. He turned towards me, heedless of the blade at his throat. When he spoke, his words were calm and measured, like he had thought them countless times.

"No matter the circumstance," Kaname said gravely, "I shall walk the path of justice. Monsters and men will not deter me from my path."

I blinked, hesitated for a few seconds, and then groaned. Zangetsu, sensing my thoughts, let out an annoyed breath.

**"We're not gonna kill 'im, are we?" **He asked, disappointed.

"This is a do-over," I replied after a beat, knocking Kaname out as I spoke. I did it more roughly than necessary, and the cuts already on Kaname's body courtesy of Zangetsu made it look as though he had gone down with a struggle. "I don't want to leave a trail of bodies if I don't have to."

**"And if ya have t' kill?"**

I smiled, razor-sharp. "Then I will."

* * *

I took a deep breath and leaned back, resting my head against the wall. I was currently staying in the Fourth Division, after spending three whole days under interrogation from Head Captain Yamamoto and a _way _too suspicious Suì-Fēng, both of whom bought my story after nitpicking every single moment of it and nearly making me break out of the place just so I could get some fresh air.

Confined spaces and I really didn't work out, and only the constant soothing of Zangetsu and the Old Man had stopped me from snapping.

I had gone with the story that my injury had not been as bad as it had seemed, and I was conserving energy to try and strike back at Aizen. Yoruichi, while training me, had told me about Garganta and how to destabilize them—I chose the option of destabilizing the Garganta rather than completely obliterating it—so I used a covert Getsuga Tenshō to close the portal to Hueco Mundo and stop Aizen's escape. After that I claimed that Zangetsu and I had temporarily fused in order to get enough power to catch Aizen off-guard with one final attack, after which Gin and Kaname took me away as revenge.

At that point, former Captain Tōsen tried to attack me, only to be stopped and knocked out by Gin after a brief struggle. Then Gin alerted the rest of the Gotei 13, got himself interrogated, and somehow everything worked out. After that, I played dumb; after all, I was nothing more than a human teenager, and couldn't _possibly_ be smarter or know more than a _captain_.

Sometimes, the skill with which I had learned to lie was disturbing. Maybe it came from comforting helpless and shattered Shinigami forced on the frontlines years too soon only to see their friends hacked to pieces right in front of them.

Gin had gotten off with the Shinigami captain equivalent of a slap on the wrist: docked pay and observation for a few months. Kaname, on the other hand was imprisoned. Even I wasn't sure where he had gone; Hisagi and Komamura had taken the news surprisingly well, especially after they found out Kaname's last words.

They simply looked disappointed and very, very tired. Of course, judging from their turbulent Reiatsu, I knew they were trying and failing to disguise or stifle their emotions. I knew from experience that suppressing emotions was a very bad idea, but I wasn't really in a position to reprimand a captain and a lieutenant when I was supposed to be a brash sixteen-year-old.

On the bright side, the Gotei 13 seemed anxious to cover up the Aizen Incident, as they had dubbed it (and the number of buildings I had destroyed in my inner world after hearing that was in the hundreds because you couldn't take the damn Winter War and turn it into a fucking _incident_ like someone dropping their Zanpakutō or tearing their Haori).

After commending me for my actions (though the guy made it sound like pulling teeth), Yamamoto had said I was free to leave, but he clearly meant that he wanted my friends and I to leave as soon as our new friends would let us.

Really, I was spending the entire four days hiding from Kenpachi. I wasn't sure what Uryū and Orihime and Chad were up to, but whatever it was had to be more fun than running from a homicidal maniac with no understanding of the word "restraint".

On the bright side, we were leaving Soul Society that day. I'd already solidified my friendship with Renji and Rukia—and damn had that made me want to throw up from all the flashbacks of the times Renji and Rukia had hauled me out of trouble and supported me even as I was falling apart from stress and trauma—and there was only an hour or so left before I was supposed to head over to the Senkaimon.

A familiar, monstrous Reiatsu suddenly pressed down on the building I had taken shelter in and I cursed, wondering how Kenpachi had managed to track me down so quickly; normally, the guy could barely find his way to the First Division. While he was a complete monster during the war, he'd never done well in "normal" settings.

Last night I had to act surprised when Rukia announced that she wasn't coming back with us to the World of the Living after spending nearly half the day searching for her with Orihime—barging in on Byakuya's sick room and acting like it was no big deal was as satisfying as I remember.

The dinner at Kūkaku's place was pretty entertaining, minus the fact that I accidentally punched Ganju across the room when he got a little too rough with me which caused my instincts to kick in.

Twice.

I had to force myself not to physically roll my eyes when Captain Ukitake handed me my Substitute Soul Reaper badge, and then I smiled when Orihime gave Uryū's dress to Rukia (and wouldn't take no for an answer).

The good-bye to Rukia wasn't as awkward as I remember, but the distractions made me forget one crucial detail about the trip back to the world of the living: the Kotetsu.

Zangetsu was very helpful in supplying phrases for me to spit at Yoruichi, who either pretended not to or didn't hear me as we sprinted through the Dangai, the Purple Train of Death hot on our heels.

Needless to say, being made into a human baseball was even less fun the second time, especially since Ishida's surprisingly sharp elbow was digging into my abdomen the entire time before we landed on Kisuke's weird flying carpet thing.

Kisuke's apology was somewhat mollifying, even though I really wasn't mad at him. I had felt Yoruichi's eyes on me the entire way back, and I knew that she didn't miss the way I flinched when Kisuke apologized to me, or the way my hands clenched into fists when I first laid eyes on him.

Seeing my dead friends alive again hurt. Seeing a much less burdened, a much _freer_ Kisuke was just plain painful, because I knew exactly what he looked like when pushed beyond the breaking point, and I couldn't help but compare the two images in my head and realize that the contrast was terrible.

I wasn't ashamed that I spent the entire following night by the river, staring at the exact spot where Grand Fisher had permanently changed my life.

Maybe the dead shouldn't screw with the living, not the other way around.

* * *

The return to normal life was jarring, to say the least. I knew my dad suspected something was off; for the complete idiot he was, Isshin was far from stupid and he hadn't been a captain for nothing. However, he seemed to assume that the new seriousness that coated every action I did despite my best efforts was from Soul Society. It was difficult to completely change the way I moved after all, especially since I had trained with masters of stealth in order to perfect moving silently even when I wasn't intentionally trying to do so.

The hardest part was my new appearance, not to mention the new appearance of Zangetsu. I brushed off both by claiming bankai training and achieving bankai caused the changes, and consistently changed the subject every time someone tried to press the issue. Uryū, Chad, and Orihime bought it (Uryū with more than a little doubt), and I found that it was disturbingly easy to go back to my old life.

Of course, every single action made me want to punch the nearest wall with how _normal_ it was.

There was no war.

People weren't dying in droves; I didn't see Orihime break twice over when Tatsuki was killed.

There was no war.

Chad would never break his oath when he was the last one standing in his group and had no other choice but to fight back and always feel guilty about it, would never even doubt me if I told him that he was doing it for my sake, not his own.

There was no war.

Uryū wouldn't have to pull every Quincy trick out of his bag and even invent a few new ones himself just to stay alive, only to die anyway.

There was no war.

**_"Oi, King. You're repeatin' yerself."_**

_Yeah._

I felt a slight pull in my head, and then I was gone from my silent room and in my inner world, which was cloudy, a stark contrast from the painfully clear night sky outside. I inhaled deeply, taking in the distinctive scent that signified rain. Occasionally I felt raindrops splatter against my skin, but the tight reign I held on my emotions prevented an outright downpour. Distant rolls of thunder shook the skyscraper I stood on, and caused the flagpole a familiar figure was standing on to rattle slightly.

"Old Man," I acknowledged, nodding in his direction. The embodiment of my Quincy powers nodded back, his expression drawn and serious as his pitch-black cloak billowed in the wind that whipped through the air. Shifting my gaze slightly, I saw the white copy of me standing a few meters away with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

It was strange, I thought, how Zangetsu had become more like me in the way that he acted. His bouts of insanity were still plentiful, but now he took to scowling when he was serious or concerned instead of smiling more disturbingly than Gin. On the flipside, I had adopted some of his mannerisms as well.

As they say, war makes monsters of men. But does that make men of monsters as well?

The rain began to come down in earnest, and Zangetsu's scowl deepened.

**"Yer not even gonna acknowledge me, King?"** He drawled, tilting his head as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sorry," I replied, sitting down on the building's cold surface and not even caring that it was wet. "I'm just preoccupied."

**"I noticed."**

Zangetsu moved to stand next to me and looked down, still scowling.

"What?"

**"Ya can't sulk like this, King. Yeah, ya went through a war an' things were pretty shitty for most of it, but ya have another chance t' fix it."**

"You may have lost the bonds you once had," Old Man Zangetsu added, his deeper baritone more gentle than the hollow's harsh double voice as he regarded me, "but you have a chance to build new ones. You may never get back what you have lost, Ichigo, but this was your choice. You chose to move forward; you cannot look back, or you will hesitate at the wrong moment and meet your end."

I sighed, tilting my head up and letting the cool rain splash against my face and run in small rivulets across my skin. My hair was already plastered against my neck and forehead, and I absently brushed a stray strand away from my eyes.

"You are upset about killing Aizen," Old Man Zangetsu observed, his observant nature not missing anything in my actions. I rubbed my forehead.

"I guess. It's just . . . I thought, after so long, I would feel . . . _better_. Less . . . heavy. I mean, killing him was so damn satisfying yet I don't feel any different. Aizen—_Aizen_—is dead before he could kill—before he could start the war, and everyone's safe. But nothing feels like it's changed. And—" the words tasted so bitter on my tongue, and not even the rain could wash them away, "I don't know what to do."

During the war, I had been a leader, a general in the army who never hesitated on an order and handled thousands of lives on a daily basis like pieces on a chessboard. I fought in more battles than any other Shinigami, lost countless nights' sleep and ate so little that starvation always loomed on the horizon, and even after six months of recovery and time in Soul Society, the sight of Yuzu's cooking made me want to flinch and hit something at the same time.

Aizen had put me—and everyone I held close to me—through countless days and nights of hell, and at the time he finally died in the future timeline it felt rather pointless, more of a parting gesture than the death of the greatest villain Soul Society had ever seen.

I felt insulted more than I felt vindicated.

I realized it was impossible not to lose a part of yourself, somewhere between manipulating other people like nothing more than objects and hearing them screaming on the battlefield. I slowly fell apart in such gradual increments that by the time I noticed there was nothing I could do to be whole again, no matter how much those around me tried to pick up the scattered pieces.

Zangetsu sat down beside me, his jaw clenched while he stared off at the distant horizon, nearly indistinguishable from the gray clouds that perpetually coated the skies above. Any discomfort I felt at seeing an inverted clone of myself had disappeared years ago, and now I took his appearance in stride.

**"I dunno what I'm supposed t' say," **he admitted. **"I wanna fight ya, see if I can get ya t' focus on somethin' other than Aizen." **Zangetsu's voice when he said Aizen's name dripped with pure venom. He glanced at me, expression twisting. **"But I know that's not what ya need. Yer head's in a bad place, King, an' I don't know what to do about that.**

**"What I do know is that ya finally killed the bastard, before anyone else got hurt. Ya did what ya came here t' do, and you're gonna have t' live with the consequences. You're always gonna think of the future an' what you've lost; there's nothin' I can do t' stop that. But ya need to focus on the _now_, King. Otherwise you'll lose yerself all over again, an' I don't wanna go through that shit storm again."**

All things considered, that had to be one of the most supportive things Zangetsu had ever said to me, and I could count the number of times he'd talked to me without using insults on the fingers of one hand.

"I get that," I said quietly. "I made my decision, and I know there's no going back. But . . . I never realized how much it would hurt just to see everyone alive and—and—"

"Unburdened?" Old Man Zangetsu supplied, expression even graver than it had been minutes earlier. The rain didn't seem to affect the coat he wore in the slightest, I noted absently.

"Yeah. Kisuke—ah, Hat-n-Clogs is so much more confident now. He thinks he knows what's going to happen."

**"You gonna tell him about yer situation?"**

I let a small smile play across my lips, a flicker of amusement pulling at me. "It'll be more entertaining if he figures it out himself, I think. I want to see how long it'll take him to confront me."

"That will breed distrust, no matter how slight," Old Man Zangetsu cautioned, ever the voice of reason. I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging the point.

"I know, but I'm considering it payback for all the lying and crap Ki—Hat-n-Clogs put me through the first time around." My eyes flashed dangerously, accompanied by a burst of lightning in the distance. "I don't like being shaped into a weapon of last resort."

The rain came down harder, but after I calmed myself down the downpour lightened into a drizzle. The clouds stayed, however.

I still couldn't help the way my thoughts strayed to the war. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see flashes of battles; a sword swinging at my head from an Arrancar or Aizen himself, blood spraying in the air, even phantom pains from wounds long since healed.

The ache in my chest increased, and my breathing stuttered slightly.

My mirror image at my side abruptly stood up, scowling.

**"Enough of this."**

Zangetsu reached down and grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet.

"What are you—?" I started, intending to push him away (because no matter how much I knew that the guy was on my side he had a bad habit of using the most violent methods possible), but I was too late.

In one smooth motion, Zangetsu hurled me off the side of the building.

I didn't scream or react in any way; instead, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the freefall. In better times, I had jumped off the sides of the buildings in my inner world, using my improving control of Reishi (which apparently existed in Inner Worlds) to slow and stop my descents. However, at my level of power, hitting the ground would bruise me at the very worst if only gravity had pulled me down. When someone threw me, it was a different story, but Zangetsu hadn't been trying to hurt me.

Probably.

For a few moments, I felt weightless, suspended in the air in the same way as a raindrop, for once without the ominous burden that I held on my shoulders like my birthright.

And then I hit water, and reality came crashing back with a cold shock that drove the breath from my body in an explosive gasp and freezing, cloudy water surrounded me, filling my nose and choking me. I coughed, instinctively inhaling only to find that there was _water_ and I _couldn't _and—

**"Breathe, idiot!"**

Distantly, I saw Zangetsu crash into the water near me in an explosion of bubbles; his expression was more irate than it had been in a while.

After following his directions, I calmed down enough for rational thought to return. When it did, and my vision cleared without the narrowed focus that panic created, I could see my surroundings in the water that had cleared from the bubbles my landing had created.

Clearly, I was still in my inner world, judging from the bottoms of skyscrapers that I was seeing. However, other details caught my attention. There were trees planted around the streets, perfectly made sidewalks and every street sign necessary.

None of this was new to me; I was simply surprised that I was seeing it when I was underwater.

In fact, now that I was aware, I could see that the water only stretched a meter or so above my head. It was incredible that I hadn't hit the street when I landed, though I might have and not noticed.

"Zangetsu, what is this?" I asked, rapidly becoming accustomed to breathing underwater. My inner world had practically been a model of that drowned city I'd once read about—Atlantis?—during the war. It was never sunny.

Still wasn't, as a matter of fact.

**"Yer mopin' and sulkin' the past few days has got yer world drowned all over again," **Zangetsu spat.

"But I've kept everything under control," I responded, sitting down and materializing Zangetsu's blade form on my back so that I would be weighed down in the water and not float up. "My emotions—"

"Are still there," Old Man Zangetsu said, drifting down to standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder. "You may have your emotions under control, Ichigo, but they are most certainly still there."

**"An' with everyone around, you're clampin' down on 'em more than normal. That's only makin' things worse."**

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I clenched my right hand into a fist, closing my eyes and letting out a deep breath to try and vent some of my frustration. "I don't know how to . . . how to deal with my emotions."

Old Man Zangetsu sighed. "Ichigo, there has been one figure in your life whom you trust more than anyone. Speak with her, and you may yet find peace."

Zangetsu grunted his agreement, none-too-gently slugging me on the shoulder. **"Get outta here, King. Yer time with yer subjects is up." ** His eyes sparkled with mischief. **"Ya killed Aizen. Now live yer life."**

I was shoved from my inner world with the mental image of Zangetsu smirking, something akin to pride glowing in his eyes.

* * *

Heeding the advice of my Zanpakutō, I visited my mother's grave the next morning after breakfast, deciding to skip the school day. Contrary to my inner world, the weather outside was sunny and warm, so I dressed in one of my many Nice Vibe t-shirts and pants, trying not to reveal how uncomfortable the normal clothes made me feel even after days of wearing them.

I was so used to the feel of a Shihakushō anything else felt unnatural and stifling.

"Hey, Mom," I said quietly, seated in front of Masaki's gravestone. The cemetery was quiet save for a few birds chirping in the distance and a light breeze rustling through the treetops, and I took comfort in the relative silence. Zangetsu, materialized without his blades, was leaning against my back in the same position and facing the opposite direction, keeping watch.

Already, I felt slightly better. No matter how much time passed or what happened, talking to the grave was strangely calming for me. Awkwardly, I continued.

"I, um, haven't been here in a while."

I took a deep breath even as my heart began to beat the slightest bit faster. "I don't know if you should be proud of me or not, but . . ."

"You're not going to believe what's happened," I continued, trusting that my Zanpakutō would warn me if anyone got too close. "I mean, technically most of it hasn't and never will happen, but I don't' think that matters. Anyway, I think you should know, because I've kept you out of the loop too much lately."

I kept talking, describing my adventures with Rukia and Renji in Hueco Mundo, the betrayal of Captain Amagai, the Zanpakutō rebellion, and everything else that came to mind. As I talked, Zangetsu hummed near-silently in approval or support, accompanied by waves of soothing Reiatsu from the Old Man.

Really, this was the best therapy for me. I knew it, Zangetsu knew it, and Old Man Zangetsu knew it.

Mom was always willing to listen.

When I went on to describe the war, I chose my words much more carefully. There were still some things—like the tender graces of Aizen's personal care—which I needed to skip over or risk having a flashback episode that my sword spirits couldn't drag me out of. But I did talk about Kenpachi, and how we strangely bonded over fights that stretched on for days and I discovered that he was a hell of a lot more intelligent than he let on, that while he wasn't a genius he was unrivalled when it came to impromptu battle tactics.

I talked about how Rukia and Renji achieved (or in Renji's case, renamed) bankai, and then described their final forms because I was still impressed with them even though they only used them for a short amount of time.

I told stories about the Soul King Palace and the Zero Division, as well as how I found out the true identity of Zangetsu.

I grew a little wistful when I told the tale of my father informing me about my true origins, and then bitter when I described his end. I echoed his last words: "Live well, Ichigo, and die happy."

Dammit, the old bastard had been serious in his final moments but I would always remember him as half crazy and far too spontaneous.

Briefly, I mentioned that Yuzu and Karin had passed away as well, but I couldn't get more than ten words in before words failed me, and my voice trailed away to nothing. There was no way for me to continue; that was the pinnacle moment, when I had failed at everything my name meant, when I hadn't been the big brother that my younger sisters had so desperately needed.

Zangetsu offered wordless support and shifted slightly, and I continued, pouring out everything that happened to me, the months I spent pulling myself together, the time Urahara spent shut away in his lab, and the final journey I took through the modified Senkaimon.

By the time I stopped speaking, my voice was hoarse from talking so much after so many months of little use; calling out orders and fighting was far different than pouring out your life story.

It was the first time I'd really recounted the war without skipping over nearly everything, and that knowledge was a little depressing. At the same time, I felt the weight that had rested on my shoulders ease slightly, as though some of the responsibility I carried for the war had lifted. It was a strange feeling, but I welcomed it.

After about ten minutes of muted silence, in which even the graveyard itself seemed to be respecting all that had happened, Zangetsu spoke, his voice unusually soft.

**"You good, King?"**

I took a deep breath, scanning my mother's gravestone and imprinting it in my memory over the mental picture I had of that same grave destroyed, nothing more than a patch of rubble in a decimated town.

This was a new life. I had to remember that.

"Yeah." There was a wealth of emotion in that one word that I didn't bother to examine. "I'm good."

I felt Zangetsu shift, and then he was standing up. He offered his hand and I took it, allowing myself to be pulled to my feet. After searching my face for a few seconds, Zangetsu grinned in his usual unsettling way, apparently having found what he was looking for.

**"Good t' have ya back."**

And then he vanished, returning to my inner world.

_"Are you ready, Ichigo?"_

_Yeah, Old Man._

_"Yoruichi is at the edge of the graveyard."_

**_"She thinks she can hide her Reiatsu. Funny."_**

Rolling my eyes and then schooling my expression into its usual blankness, I turned around and stuffed my hands into my pockets. After casting out my senses, I picked up a distinctly feline signature making its way in my direction. Mentally counting, I got all the way to fifteen seconds before a black cat crested the hill nearby and trotted in my direction, eventually sitting on its haunches in front of me, regarding me with yellow eyes.

"Yoruichi Shihōin," I said evenly. She tilted her head.

"Ichigo. What are you doing here?"

I flicked my gaze to my mom's gravestone and back, slowly allowing one eyebrow to creep up. Yoruichi got the message.

"Ah, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault." My expression returned to normal. "What brings you here, Yoruichi?"

"I can't help but feel otherwise at least a little."

I sighed, shrugging ever so slightly. "If that's what you're going to think, fine. But you didn't answer my question."

The cat was silent for a moment. "I was curious. What are you going to do now? You killed Aizen, which was apparently your entire mission when you came back. Did you plan for after that?"

I smiled humorlessly. "You know me, Yoruichi."

It was difficult to read her expression when she wasn't human. "I knew the old you, Ichigo. I hate to sound cliché, but I do not know you now."

The only indication I gave of how her words stung was a slight tightening of my expression, but I let it slide. "Well, that doesn't matter. I know what I'm going to do." I looked up, checking the position of the sun. "In fact, there's something I have to do right now. Yoruichi, can you bring my body to Kis—Hat-n-Clog's shop?"

"Sure, Ichigo, but how are you going to get out of—?"

I grinned thinly, took a deep breath, and concentrated for a split second on the tenuous connection between my soul and body. With practiced ease, I severed that connection, and stepped out of my body in full Shinigami attire.

Admittedly, since my body was still growing and adjusting to my soul's new appearance, the experience was much stranger than I remembered. Not to mention that I had died in my timeline, so my body was much more difficult to enter and exit than it had been during the war (at least, when the war was in early enough stages that I had time to be in my body).

My body slumped to the ground as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and I winced when my forehead slammed into the brick walkway.

_Whoops._

Yoruichi was a cat, but even I could see the confusion and slyness that slid into her expression. I knew exactly what was coming next: she was going to try and make me feel uncomfortable, preferably with much spluttering and flushing.

"Ichigo, are you sure you want me . . . _handling_ your body? After all, I will need to switch to human form to do so, and I don't have any clothes with me at the moment." Her eyes sparkled. "Unless, of course, you _do_ want me to?"

"Do what you want, Yoruichi," I replied easily. "But please try to remember that I am still a virgin in this timeline. You wouldn't want to spoil that, would you?"

This time, Yoruichi was the one spluttering.

"If anyone asks where I am," I continued as if I hadn't said anything at all, "tell them I'm having one of my sulking days and don't want to be disturbed."

"Kisuke will see your body," Yoruichi pointed out, recovering her wits. I smirked.

"Let him draw his own conclusions." I cocked my head. "Unless you don't want to pull one over on the master of pulling things over?"

Yoruichi's grin rivaled Zangetsu's (which looked rather strange on a cat). "Of course not. I will see you when you get back, Ichigo." She frowned. "Which reminds me, where are you going, exactly?"

"Hueco Mundo."

I had ripped open a Garganta and jumped through it before the Flash Goddess could formulate her next words, leaving her gaping next to my soulless body. I had to think that the expression was out of place on a cat's face, but then darkness swallowed me up and my attention was diverted away from the world I left behind.

Time to deal with the Arrancar.

* * *

_A/N There we go. Yeah, I kind of followed canon for this, but I really wanted to write that inner world scene because frankly, Ichigo needed it. And I like Zangetsu, so the inner hollow got his own time to shine._

**_Reviews:_**

**_Usagi-Chin: _**_I'm happy you like this fic, and I hope you enjoyed the update!_

**_Guest:_**_ Glad you like it!_

**_WBE:_**_ I don't know what to say here, other than "I did"._

**_kurgaya:_**_ I hope the chapter met your expectations!_

**_Moon's last stand:_**_ that ending was _so_ satisfying to write. I hope it was just as much so to read._

**_ThatGuy16:_**_ Man, I hope your assignments went OK. Go school! *throws confetti into the air with completely straight face*_

**_Not-Gonna-Update:_**_ Hm you're setting the bar pretty high for me. Your encouragement is appreciated!_

**_Gulliman:_**_ I'll do what I can to keep writing this story._

**_Qwerty321:_**_ Bottom line, AP summer work sucks._

**_Rosco Peeko Trane:_**_ well, I'm happy that you took the time to say that much, even if you don't think it had anything of value._

**_EmptySurface: _**_Aizen leaving and Aizen dying would end up the same way (until the Arrancar arc, of course), so I just went with that. Except for Tosen and Gin, of course._

**_jcampbellohten:_**_ watch the language in your reviews, please .-. Other than that, thank you!_

**_Heart18: _**_Thank you!_

**_God of Spirits-Spirit Black: _**_Your wish has been granted._

**_blacklegend99:_**_ Review:informative, four and a half stars. Provides effective feedback, grammar questionable but clearly relays message. Comments: Thank you!_

_Man, lots of reviews. I'm starting to think that I'll just comment on the reviews that really warrant comments, okay? Great._

_Until next time, whenever that may be,_

_-RoR_

_Please review._

_(9-11-14: some of you may be thinking, "But Rayneeeee, how can there be Arrancar if Aizen dieeeeeed and didn't transform theeeeeem? Good question, audience. The answer? I'm assuming that Aizen was making trips to Hueco Mundo before his big reveal. That way, he already had most of the Espada formed.)_

_(9-13-14: When I mentioned that some of you had weird pen names, IT WAS NOT A COMPETITION!)_

_(10-12-14: **BIG NEWS**: the next update for this story is going to be on 10-30-14. I have finished writing the next chapter but I'm still editing, and that _will _be the last chapter for at least two months. I'm grateful to all the support you guys give this story, and I hope you find even better stories to read in the meantime!)_

_(10-13-14: **Slightly less big news: **I've opened a poll in my profile as to whether I'll be updating _Rewind _or _Rift_ in the future. You guys should check it out and vote. It'll be open for a long, long time, but I figured the sooner the better to get more people's input.)_


	5. Chapter 5

_A demonic weasel is following me. That's . . . nice._

* * *

Chapter 5

A small source of pride for me was that my pathway through the rip between worlds was as controlled and steady as Captain Unohana's had been the first time around, without flaking and falling apart. Those sporadic stepping-stones were a thing of the past (or the future). The path was a solid line, just wide enough for me to walk on it comfortably. I took my time, walking at a casual pace and talking with Zangetsu and the old man to see if they had any insight on what I should do about the arrancar that I hadn't already thought about.

Some things never changed, however. For example, emerging from the Garganta in mid-air, approximately one hundred meters above the sprawling sands of Hueco Mundo, was still a constant in my life. Even during the war, the chances of me actually getting into Hueco Mundo at ground level were next to none. That was mostly why people hadn't travelled with me.

_Dammit._

The fall wasn't particularly exciting, though I took some satisfaction in creating a giant crater in the sand when I landed, causing dust to go flying in all directions, borne aloft by whipping winds that cleared out a pretty respectable area. Stealth wasn't exactly my main objective; hell, I had done the least amount of planning for this adventure than I had done in years.

It felt good to wing something again.

Following along those lines, I let what Reiatsu I could access with my seal in place leak out. It would warn off stronger hollows and draw the attention of one that I was looking for in particular.

Las Noches squatted on the horizon like some kind of demented, twisted sun that was still dwarfed by the ever-present moon. I scowled just looking at it, remembering the hordes of hollows that had poured from its entryways the moment the Gotei 13 landed in Hueco Mundo in an attempt to push back Aizen.

It had been a slaughter, and I had only arrived in the last moments, just in time to see the last few Shinigami get cut down without mercy, their blood spraying in the air and landing in splatters on hollows' masks like macabre paintings.

**_"Oi, King, ya didn't come here t' sightsee an' feel sorry for yerself. Get a move on!"_**

Rolling my eyes, I began walking in the direction of Las Noches, stretching out my senses and searching for one signature in particular. I had no problem with taking my time; as far as I was concerned, I had all the time in the world. In the original timeline, I hadn't arrived in Hueco Mundo for a few more days at least. Theoretically, Aizen should've been in Las Noches already, but I was working under the impression that he had given his Espada a rough estimate (or no estimate at all) describing when he'd be back. He was a paranoid guy, despite his thou-and-the-world-shall-bow-to-me attitude.

After a few more hours of walking through the empty sands, occasionally seeing the oh-so-comforting crystalline tree, I materialized both of my Zanpakutō just because I found it weird to have a conversation and have nowhere to look. I was sure the three of us cut a strange picture; a man in a billowing black cloak, a boy in a ripped Shihakushō with two blades on his person, and an inverted copy of that boy all walking side-by-side.

**"He's coming," **Zangetsu growled, his yellow and black eyes staring accusingly at the sands ahead. He remembered this place as well as I did, and while Zangetsu enjoyed combat as much if not more so than Zaraki Kenpachi did, he'd had more than his fill during the war.

"What are you planning to do, Ichigo?" Old Man Zangetsu asked, glancing at me. I frowned slightly, my mind automatically slipping into a more focused state as I began to plan ahead.

"I need to meet with Ashido," I said, thinking aloud. "I won't let him sacrifice himself again, especially for such a pointless reason. He deserves peace after everything he's done and been through."

"I agree," Old Man Zangetsu said, giving me an approving look.

**"I gotta wonder how many hollow's the guy's actually killed."**

"Who knows?" I replied, glancing sideways at Zangetsu. The hollow shrugged, his expression saying _someone had to ask_. I blinked at him, still not entirely understanding him even after all these years, and then looked away.

Without needing to be asked, my Zanpakutō spirits returned to my inner world with the threat of the impending confrontation.

The Reiatsu I had been feeling for the past few minutes surged and a giant, towering figure made of white sand rose up in front of me, its head vaguely resembling a sand castle. I stared up at it, unconcerned.

"You are a trespasser," the giant pile of sand said, its voice reverberating throughout Hueco Mundo.

Really, how does a hollow made out of sand even _work_?

**_"Hell if I know."_**

_"Perhaps a hollows' intelligence is centered in its mask, rather than the rest of its body, so that the mind will still function as long as the mask is intact regardless of damage to the body."_

_Nice theory, Old Man, but there's a problem. Even if I slice his mask in half, it reforms, remember?_

Old Man Zangetsu went silent, and I knew he was sulking. As much as his reserved personality would allow him to sulk, anyway. I'd found out during the course of the war that the Old Man really liked to be right in his theories, and when he wasn't, he tended to withdraw from whatever conversation was being held and try to save face. It was amusing on some levels, actually.

"I will crush you, trespasser!" the hollow I knew to be Runuganga declared, raising one sandy fist. "You shall become nothing but sand in the wind!"

_He's not any better the second time around. At least I don't have to worry about Nel yet. Also, how does a fist made of sand not crumble? Wouldn't gravity overpower whatever's holding it together?_

Facing this guy a second time gave me far more time to wonder about things I hadn't bothered thinking about the first time, and I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The sand hollow's fist came crashing down and I made the bare minimum of effort required to dodge it, flickering just out of range of the shockwave via Flash Step. I was drawing Zangetsu before I even realized what I was doing, so used to adapting to a fight before registering that I was _in_ a fight.

_"Last time, you required the assistance of Rukia in order to defeat Runuganga. How are you planning on completing that task this time?"_

The old man had a point; Runuganga's weakness was water, and all Zangetsu had to offer were energy attacks. I had come to a solution, however, as soon as the sand hollow had appeared. A small smile pulled at my lips as I prepared myself.

_Defeating him is easy; I'll just do it with a hell of a lot of overkill._

Sheathing Zangetsu—the idea of sheathing my blade during a fight was strange, but I did it anyway—I began focusing, pulling my Reiryoku from the great ocean that existed inside me and directing it to my fingertips.

"Fool!" Runuganga declared, most likely sensing the buildup of my detectable Reiatsu. "Do not think that weak attacks like that will be able to harm me!"

"Don't think that my attacks are weak," I said, raising one hand and focusing further. Kidō wasn't my strong suit, but I'd used this particular spell countless times during the war. "Hadō number sixty-three, Raikōhō."

My Reiatsu burst from my extended hand in a roaring wave of yellow energy, perfectly formed and perfectly released in a way that would have earned even Byakuya's respect. It was almost like lightning in the way that it darted through the air, glowing and flickering.

_"I see your plan. It's ridiculous."_

_Your feedback has been noted, Old Man._

**_"Ya shoulda used a more powerful spell! Or a Getsuga Tenshō. Those woulda been more fun."_**

_There's a difference between overkill and wasteful, and I'm not here to have fun. Plus, a Getsuga _Tenshō would've just sliced right through him.__

**_"Fine."_**

As the smoke from my attack cleared, I began to see the results of the devastating energy attack.

"Intense heat . . . " I said, examining my handiwork with a critical eye. "Combined with copious amounts of sand and enough energy to facilitate the change . . ."

Runuganga became visible, his body fused together and approaching translucent with a glossy shine courtesy of the solitary moon hanging overhead. It wasn't fully transparent at all, but it wasn't bad, all things considered.

"Produces glass."

_Or something close enough to it._

My attack hadn't been powerful enough to completely glass Runuganga's body; I didn't want all of Hueco Mundo to know that I was there, which was why I had foregone the incantation. It was enough, however, to completely incapacitate the hollow for as much time as I needed. It would take him weeks to recover, provided that enough weaker hollows passed by to provide him energy. It might even be enough to revert him back to a previous evolution.

If Runuganga had any parting words, I didn't care enough to listen. His body fell back, shattering into innumerable shards on impact with the ground and scattering the hollow throughout the sands in an explosion of dust. It would take him a long time to recover, if he did at all.

**_"And now . . . the fun part!"_**

_You only like the Menos Forest because I let you rampage there during the war._

**_"Yeah. Too bad they don't remember me now."_**

_They don't even know you. They haven't met you._

**_"Technicality."_**

With a roll of my eyes, I plunged Zangetsu into the sands, and fell.

* * *

Ashido was not challenging to find. His hideouts, while well hidden, were no match for my Shunido's speed and the accuracy of my Reiatsu senses. After half an hour of searching seemingly endless forest, I landed outside the cave opening where I sensed Ashido to be, and pulled on my authoritative persona, because if there was one thing that a lost and despairing Shinigami needed, it was someone telling him what to do.

"Ashido!" I said, knowing that my voice would reach him. "My name's Ichigo Kurosaki, and I need to talk to you."

Distant sounds reached my ears from inside the cave, and then I saw Ashido, his masks in place and looking like a hollow, looking at me from the dark, his blade drawn. His stance was defensive but tense; he clearly hadn't expected any company.

"Are you going to respond, Ashido, or am I going to stand here all day and let the hollows eat me?"

When Ashido spoke, his voice was rough with disuse but the confusion was still evident. "You aren't . . . a hollow?"

I scowled. "Of course not. Do I _look_ like a hollow to you, Shinigami? Now take off that mask. There's no place for it here."

Dumbly, Ashido complied, revealing his dark toned hair and even darker eyes. "How are you . . .?"

"How am I here? Good question. I've been put on a covert mission to bring you back to Soul Society."

Those words seemed to echo in the air, hanging around for much longer than normal. Ashido froze, his grip on his Zanpakutō tightening. "You cannot be serious. I still have so much to do; the reason I stay here is because I can stop hollows before they even reach the living world. I can't just abandon my mission."

Having been in a similar situation, I felt what was left of my empathy reach out towards Ashido, but I ignored it. "Your mission's over, Ashido. You're going back." I glanced into the forest, knowing that no hollows were able to sense my presence, and looked for a certain grave that I knew was in the distance. "Your comrades would understand."

Ashido's mouth worked, and I could tell that his thoughts were in chaos.

"Look, Ashido," I said, letting some of the weariness I normally kept hidden seep into my expression and tone. "You deserve rest. You've been working for several centuries, carrying the burden of the people you've lost without ever talking to someone else about your troubles."

My gaze hardened as I repeated myself. "You need to rest."

"I—" Ashido cut himself off, and then reconsidered. "I don't know if this is really . . . " He paused again, continued again. "Real."

I took a deep breath, remembering countless Shinigami that had told me that exact same thing on the battlefield. "I understand. Is there anything I can do to prove that this is really happening?"

"I'm not sure. My delusions . . . go on for months. I only know they're fake when I wake up."

_"The only way to help this man, Ichigo, is to send him to Soul Society, and hope that he comes to accept reality and make peace with his past."_

_I understand, Old Man._

"Listen, Ashido." He snapped to attention. "I will open a Senkaimon, and you will go through it."

"You won't?"

"No. I still have a mission on the surface desert."

"If there's anything you need to know, I could tell you."

I pressed down a flutter of dark amusement. "No, I'm fine. But I have one stipulation."

Ashido immediately become suspicious, and I got the feeling that his hallucinations had often revolved around a similar concept: so close to escape, only to be given a demand that was impossible to meet.

"Do not tell anyone in Soul Society that I sent you there."

Ashido was quiet for a moment, processing my words, before he spoke.

"Pardon my asking, but why?"

"I'm on a covert mission," I explained. "Need to know basis. I can't risk news of my job reaching the wrong ears. Even if you see me in Soul Society, I need you to act like you don't know me."

Ashido nodded slowly as he processed the information. "I understand."

The distant roars of hollows were a strange contrast to the sound of Zangetsu sliding into empty air. Ashido took in every second of my opening of the Senkaimon almost hungrily. It made sense, I supposed, since he had likely been hallucinating this moment for centuries, that he would want to commit every detail his memory.

Opening a Senkaimon without going through the official procedures was always strange, like forcing my Zanpakutō through a brick wall instead of the flexible barrier between the Dangai and the World of the Living. It wasn't too difficult, just awkward.

"You can make it without a Jigokuchō," I said. It was almost a question, but not quite. Nevertheless, Ashido nodded. "Good."

I twisted Zangetsu, the upper half of the blade hidden in the fold between worlds, and the shoji doors of the Senkaimon opened with a flourish.

I exchanged one last look with Ashido, and the expression on his face was so painful for me that I was the one to look away first, an experience I hadn't had in years.

And then he was gone, obscured by the light of the Senkaimon. It was fitting that Ashido, who had spent so long in the darkness of Hueco Mundo, got to leave Hueco Mundo through the blinding light of the shoji doors.

As the doors closed and the blinding light faded from Hueco Mundo, I felt a small fraction of the weight on my shoulders ease. It wasn't much, but anything was an improvement from the crushing responsibility the war had put on me. I didn't blame anyone for that; it was my fault I couldn't end Aizen earlier, after all. I hadn't been strong enough.

_"Do not be too hard on yourself. You did everything you could, and you are at least content."_

_As content as I'll ever be, Old Man. _

**_"Time for the Arrancar, King. Ya ready?"_**

_Yeah. _

Zangetsu thrummed, some of his bloodlust trickling into my mind.

**_"Ya know we're gonna kill most of 'em, right?"_**

Concern was not usually in Zangetsu's vocabulary, but he had a reason to be worried. Normally, if I were going to kill an opponent, I would fight them in a one-on-one battle.

I didn't have time for that; Soul Society would notice my absence from the World of the Living soon enough. Therefore, I would have to go with assassination, an art that Suì-Fēng had taught me during the war once the Arrancar had become too troublesome to deal with in an honorable battle.

That training had been one of the most arduous regimens I'd ever been through. Suì-Fēng didn't know the meaning of the word "mercy", and it carried over into everything she did. The results, however, were incredible, and the training had taught me to move silently and gracefully without even having to think about it.

At first, I had been hesitant about the assassinations. After all, it went against everything I had done up to that point. But Aizen forced my hand, as he had done time and time again, and I did what was necessary to save as many souls as I could.

_I know, Zangetsu. And I'm fine with it._

There was a tinge of dry humor in my next thought, the kind of sardonic words that were the only semblance of normalcy I had kept during the war. _Most of them were assholes, anyway._

During the war, a few of the Arrancar had defected from Aizen once he betrayed them. I intended to talk to those few, and others as well.

If everything went according to plan, I would leave Hueco Mundo in better shape than I'd found it.

If it all went according to plan. Which things never really did during the war. Kisuke had planned and planned and planned but Aizen had twisted things his way no matter how much we had tried to stop him.

Snapping myself out of those thoughts before my Zanpakutō could say anything, I took one last look around the Menos Forest and then shot forward, heading to the exit that Ashido had sacrificed himself to show me the first time I had been in the Menos Forest.

It was strange to think that Ashido was now in Soul Society.

All of this was strange.

And really, that was the whole damn point.

It took me a little over forty minutes to make the journey to Las Noches from where Ashido's route left me. This was largely because I had to make a pit stop where a very familiar Reiatsu was running around.

I stopped by a sand dune, ignoring the clouds of dust that drifted by on the chilly breeze. Instead, I focused on the noises of Hueco Mundo, searching for one in particular. I heard it soon enough: crying.

To be precise, wailing. In an extremely high-pitched tone of voice. Which was also obviously young.

A small smile twisted my lips.

Nel.

She'd been invaluable during the war on Aizen from the moment she joined with the Shinigami. Nel—in her adult form—was powerful, and more than capable of providing assistance and relief for battling Shinigami unused to the desert conditions of Hueco Mundo.

We'd spent a lot of time together, since I could no longer care for Yuzu and Karin. She'd taken their places, alternatively as a younger or older sister.

It was a strange experience, but our bond had only grown with the deaths of Pesche and Dondochakka. We protected each other.

So it had been like a physical blow to me when I had heard that she had fallen to Aizen while trying to cover the retreat of an overwhelmed Shinigami force.

That had been one of the worst days of my life; the world had shut down for me, and time dragged on like countless infinities. I remember freezing upon hearing the news, all thoughts of the war meeting I had been in fleeing my mind in an instant.

The only things that had stopped me from snapping were my Zanpakutō spirits; before my emotions could overwhelm me, they had stepped in, yanking me into my inner world and holding me back from the edge of insanity.

At that point, I had lost Karin and Yuzu, my father, Renji, Rukia, Chad, Uryū, and Orihime. Losing Nel broke me, and Aizen knew it. He had been targeting her for months, hunting her down so that she had always been forced to run.

But Nel wouldn't abandon helpless troops, so she'd stayed. And Aizen had cut her down.

At least her death had been quick.

_"Ichigo."_

Old Man Zangetsu's voice brought me back from the painful memories, and I refocused on the present.

Seeing the young Nel sprinting over a sand dune, Pesche and Dondochakka and Bawabawa all chasing her while she laughed and cried sent a pang through my chest. I resolved to take Nel to Orihime as soon as this was over so that she wouldn't have to be stuck as a child any longer.

Nel had confessed to me during the war that being a child had been wonderful, but she had been greatly saddened by the burden she had put on her caretakers.

At least I could help her now. And really, if I wanted to stay sane, I needed to think that that was all that mattered.

Saving her now meant saving her from everything that could happen. Everything that I knew.

There was no way I wasn't going to do it.

Taking I deep breath, I called out, "Hey!"

Nel, Pesche, and Dondochakka stopped, but Bawabawa kept going. Immediately, I darted forward, scooping up Nel's toddler form and depositing her a little ways away as Pesche and Dondochakka were hidden in an explosion of sand.

Nel's washed-out brown eyes were wide as she slowly turned to look up at me, her green hood falling back as she did so to reveal her cracked hollow mask.

"Who—who're you?"

I blinked slowly, and then looked up at Pesche and Dondochakka. Well, the visible parts of them that weren't buried beneath Bawabawa, anyway.

"Why were you chasing her?" I asked, pointing at Nel. It was an innocent question, and one that would hopefully set things up to go smoothly.

"We was playin et—eter—eternal tag!" Nel said, beaming.

"Then why were you crying?"

"Oh, well Nel's a maso—masa-kissed. That makes it alright!"

Despite it being the second time I'd heard it, I still found myself rounding on Pesche. "The hell are you teaching this kid?" I said, scowling. Pesche offered no response, instead choosing to free himself from Bawabawa.

And then, before anyone could say anything, I crouched down in front of Nel.

"What's your name?"

"Nel."

"Are you an Arrancar?"

She beamed, pointing to the crack in her mask. "Yup! Nel's a bona-fide Arrancar!"

I had never managed to figure out exactly why Nel referred to herself in the third person when in her toddler form. As an adult, she had carefully avoided answering that question and, frankly, it frustrated me to a great degree.

"Okay. Nel, do you know what I am?"

She pushed out one lip, examining me with the seriousness only a child could pull off. "Well, you've got th robe thingies that th Thinigami wear . . . an a big thword on your back . . . "

She suddenly made the connection and leaped back, one finger pointing at me in an accusing manner as if I'd done something horribly wrong. "Y—you're a Thinigami!"

"Oh no, he's going to kill us!" Pesche said, rushing in front of Nel to protect her from me. Dondochakka followed suit, his oversized face only making the scene look even more ridiculous.

"Technically I'm only a substitute," I said, shrugging and trying not to let my irritation show on my face. It had taken far too long for Nel's "brothers" to get near any semblance of normalcy. "And I'm not going to kill you. If I'd wanted to do that, I would've done it already."

"That doesn't help, don'tcha know."

After Dondochakka had spoken, the three hollows leaped into a small group and began to talk amongst themselves. I could hear what they were saying easily, but pretended not to. After all, they needed to get their extreme paranoia out of their system. Of course, considering that Shinigami _were_ supposed to purify hollows like them and send them to Soul Society they had a perfectly logical base for that paranoia.

That didn't make it any less irritating.

"Hey mithter!" Nel called, her expression entirely too innocent as she turned to face me, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her heels.

"Yeah?"

"Thince you're here, you thould pway games with me!"

"And if I—"

As expected, Nel leaped at me before I could complete the thought, clearly intending to alight on my shoulder, grab Zangetsu, and make off with the blade like she had done the first time around.

This time, however, I stopped her by stepping to one side and grabbing the back of her clothes as she flew past me. She hung in the air, evidently shocked into immobility.

"Oh no!" Pesche whispered in something much louder than a whisper. "He caught on to our unbeatable plan!"

"Your plan isn't unbeatable if I could figure it out," I said, still holding on to Nel. She began struggling, saying,

"Lemme go! Lemme go!"

I glanced down at her. "Are you going to try and steal my sword again?"

She waited a split second too long in saying "no".

"Then I'm not letting you go."

Nel began pouting, managing to look strangely adorable and immensely frustrated at the same time. It was something only toddlers could pull off.

"Look, you guys," I said, still holding Nel. "I get that you're scared of me because I'm a Shinigami. But I'm not here to kill you."

"Eh?" Pesche said, frozen halfway through the motion of running at me, presumably to try and free Nel.

"You heard me right. I'm not here to kill you; in fact, I'm going to Las Noches because there's some people I need to talk to there."

"Why would you want to go to Las Noches?" Pesche asked. He sounded distinctly wary, and he kept glancing at Nel. "There are bad people there."

"I know," I said, setting Nel down since she had stopped moving. She simply stood there, eyes wide as she listened to the conversation. "That's why I'm going."

"Y—you're gonna kill them, aren't you, mithter?" Nel asked, looking at me with wide eyes. My gaze softened when I looked at her as memories of times long past—or not passed yet—filled my memory.

"Not all of them." I looked up at Pesche and Dondochakka. "But I am going after Nnoitra."

Nel's guardians immediately stiffened.

"How do you know about that?" Pesche said, only to immediately clamp his hands over his mouth. That gesture seemed a bit pointless, considering his mask jutted out far past where his mouth actually was.

"Let's just say I have my ways," I said, glancing back down at Nel. "Anyway, after I go to Las Noches, I'll play with you. Is that okay, Nel?"

Her eyes go so wide so quickly I wondered if it was possible for it to be painful. Then she was nodding, her head bobbing up and down as she latched onto my leg.

"YETH! Mithter's gonna pway wit me!"

"_After_ I go to Las Noches," I added, trying to keep my voice gentle. Really, I was trying to stem the flow of annoyance from having Nel latched onto my leg. She'd done it so often in the future that I had started throwing her across the army camps whenever she did it. It made walking way harder than it needed to be and completely ruined any air of authority I tried to give off.

Nel pouted for a moment but then let go, allowing me to walk away.

Of course, I only got three steps before I felt something latch onto my back and wrap around my throat. I barely stopped myself from reacting, and instead took a deep breath.

"Nel, what did I say?"

"I'm comin with you!" Nel declared, tightening her grip on me. It was a strange sort of piggyback ride, and the memories it brought up made me flinch. Luckily, I covered it up with a sigh. "You're gonna pway with me!"

"If Nel is going with you, then we are too!" Pesche said, all but appearing next to me, Dondochakka not far behind.

"Great," I muttered. "Just great. Well, I guess I might as well get something out of the way, especially because you three are going to need to know it so you don't freak out at the wrong moment."

"Fweak out about what?" Nel asked, shifting on my back and almost falling off.

"I know you're going to laugh," I said, waving one hair in the air in a nonchalant manner, "but I'll say it anyway." I began walking again, turning away from Pesche and Dondochakka. "I'm from the future."

There was a moment of complete silence with only the wind rustling the sand filling the air.

And then Pesche began laughing.

"From the future? Whoo, good joke! Really had me goin there! Ha . . . from the future. Whew. Man, I needed that."

I kept walking.

"Wait, you aren't serious, are you? Hey, I'm talking to you! Don't ignore me, Mr. High-and-Mighty!"

In the back of my mind, I hoped that Pesche wouldn't teach Nel the nickname he'd given me in the future—Mr. Ham. An acronym, of course, for Mr. High-and-Mighty. It had been incredibly irritating, but no matter what I had done Pesche just kept calling me it. There wasn't much I had been capable of doing to him that wouldn't draw Nel's ire, which I typically tried to avoid.

"I said I knew you were going to laugh." I kept my voice calm and without inflection. "And every word I said is true." I glanced back at Pesche, my eyes narrowing dangerously. "Why do you think I, a Shinigami, knew about Nnoitra?"

That stopped Pesche in his tracks, and I knew he was looking at Nel, probably checking to see if that name rang any of the child's metaphorical bells. Unfortunately, Nel was too busy playing with the bandage on the sheath of Zangetsu. Needless to say, the Zanpakutō spirit of that sword was less than pleased with that development.

**_"Oi, pipsqueak, get yer dirty hands off!"_**

"What are you saying?" Pesche asked, suddenly serious. The guy was almost as unpredictable as my father when it came to moods.

"I know what happened with Nel," I said. "And I have a friend that can fix her mask."

**_"Is that snot? Fucking hell, it is! Get yer grubby fingers away from—that's absolutely disgustin. King, if ya don't do somethin I'm manifestin and kickin this kid across the desert!"_**

_"You will do no such thing."_

"Really? One of your friends can help Nel?"

"Yeah. She'll be happy to do it."

**_"King, ya bastard! No, ya pint-sized demon! Don't spit on—fuck. Why is it—ya know what? I don't even want to know. Fuck this. Fuck you, Nel, and fuck you, King. Yer all assholes."_**

_"Noted."_

**_"Why aren't _****you_ doin anythin?"_**

_"Because your discomfort is not my concern. Quit complaining."_

**_"Only if you get Nel to stop slobbering on me like there's no damn tomorrow!"_**

_Deal with it, wimp. Plus, her saliva's got healing properties. You're fine._

**_"I ain't injured, King!"_**

Zangetsu continued his rant in my mind, mentioning things that even I wouldn't say aloud. After a few seconds, I tuned him out in favor of focusing on the hollows in front of me.

"We are going to Las Noches!" Pesche declared, striking a completely pointless heroic pose. Dondochakka followed suit, and I blinked, caught off guard by how ridiculous they were.

It had been so long since I'd dealt with anything like it.

And it was still. So. Annoying.

"We can ride on Bawabawa!" Nel shouted.

Right in my ear.

"Great," I said. "Nel, don't shout in my ear."

**_"Tell her ta stop playin with me while yer at it."_**

_No._

**_"Asshole."_**

Five minutes later, I found myself riding on Bawabawa towards Las Noches. The similarity was making my chest ache as I remembered the first time I had done this. At least this time, Pesche and Dondochakka were considerably less hostile than they had been. Nel spent the entire journey crawling all over me, alternatively messing with the blade across my back and the one sheathed at my waist.

Eventually, once Old Man Zangetsu began "advising" me to stop Nel, I distracted the tenacious toddler by inviting her to play "I Spy" with Pesche and Dondochakka. Luckily for me, the two were more than willing to indulge Nel despite the fact that Hueco Mundo was the definition of a barren landscape, and Nel didn't really care as long as there was _something_ she could point out.

Las Noches came quickly, and soon Pesche, Dondochakka, and I were leaving Bawabawa at the gates and walking into the imposing structure. Nel was clinging to my back, her fingers digging into my skin. She'd stopped playing with Zangetsu a while ago, but that was only because Nel had been far more fascinated with my hair. The whole fiasco had only stopped when Pesche distracted Nel with a game of rock-paper-scissors.

"So," Pesche said, waltzing up next to me as we walked through a few grand hallways. The way he was trying to be sneaky pained me to see, so I tried to avoid looking at him. "You got a 'master plan'? Some ingenious plot to take down the baddest of the bad? Something with coolness and style?" The way he said "style" made me want to punch him, but I pushed down the urge and kept walking.

"Sure."

_Zangetsu, I'll need your help carrying._

**_"Fuckin fantastic. Lemme guess: I get Dondochakka."_**

_Yeah._

**_"Fine."_**

"Pesche," I said, my voice mild, "try not to yell."

"Eh?"

Before Pesche could say anything else, Zangetsu materialized behind Dondochakka and grabbed him while I grabbed Pesche and told Nel to hold on tight. A moment later Zangetsu and I were speeding through the halls of Las Noches, bypassing the security and heading to one destination in particular. The hallways were nothing more than blurs and I knew that I was going too quickly for any hollow to track my movements, no matter how smart that hollow could be.

_Hey, Old Man, do you think she's as accepting as she was during the war?_

_"She did not change her values during the war. If you appeal to what she believes is right, there should be no conflict."_

In less time than it had taken Pesche to begin to protest his treatment, I had arrived where I wanted to be. The hollows were unceremoniously dumped on the ground save Nel, who was still clutching my back with her eyes and mouth wide open as she whispered "cooooooooooooooool".

Dondochakka and Pesche, stunned and nauseated from the sudden speed, couldn't do much of anything besides lie limply on the ground as I knocked on the door. They were unable to do much more than groan.

A cold voice answered my knock with one word:

"Enter."

I pushed open the door, threw Pesche inside and then leaned to one side as Zangetsu followed suit with Dondochakka. The pair's obnoxiously bright colors contrasted heavily with the muted gray tones of the room, but I wasn't focusing on them. Instead, I was focusing on the arrancar standing on the opposite side of the room. There was little emotion in her eyes, and the collar of her jacket prevented me from seeing any real expression on her face. She wasn't even showing surprise or irritation at having two hollows tossed into her room without any warning.

Tier Harribel looked no different than I remembered. She had always been incredibly talented at hiding her emotions, and no one lived to describe what she was like when she was truly angry or upset.

When her Fracción had died, she had wiped out the entirety of Aizen's forces on the battlefield before collapsing from the numerous fatal wounds that she had sustained during the fighting.

Her loyalty was commendable, as well as her desire to protect those weaker than her. Tier Harribel also had her own version of honor, which was one of the reasons I had chosen to go to her first out of all the Arrancar.

That, and I needed somewhere to dump Nel so that she wouldn't get in the way while I was dealing with the other Arrancar. Hopefully, Tier would cooperate and there wouldn't be any problems. Otherwise, I was going to have to improvise. It would be . . . awkward if Nel were to die. Awkward and the end of the Arrancar.

"Who are you?" The third Espada asked, her eyes sliding between Zangetsu and me. "And why are you here?"

"You're not acting very hostile," I said by way of response. Tier blinked.

"You have made no move to attack me, your weapons are sheathed, and you have not attempted to ambush me from any point other than my door. If there is an attack imminent, I am fully confident that you will die before you can realize your mistake."

Luckily, Zangetsu didn't say anything, though he did roll his eyes. Tier didn't miss that, however, and I quickly stepped in before she could misinterpret anything.

"Look, you're Tier Harribel, right?"

Her icy eyes bore into mine but mine had hardened to steel long ago and I stared back unflinchingly.

"Yes, I am," she said, crossing her arms under her chest. "I am Tier Harribel, the third Espada. Care to tell me why you are searching for me?"

"I need your help," I replied, trying to convey that I was being honest. It was more difficult than I cared to admit. Tier's eyes narrowed.

"My help?" She looked me up and down without moving her head. "But you are a Shinigami. Why would you seek help from hollows?" Her voice grew colder. "And how did you get in this place without being killed?"

"I have my ways. And before you get worried, I'm not going to go after your Fracción either."

Tier immediately tensed and her Reiatsu rose, causing Pesche and Dondochakka to whimper pathetically. Nel, on the other hand, held onto me even more tightly and peeked up over my shoulder, trembling only a little as she stared at the third Espada.

Immediately upon seeing Nel, Tier's Reiatsu vanished and her eyes returned to me.

"What is this? Why do you have a child with you?"

"Not just a child," I said. Zangetsu grinned, reaching out and tapping Nel's cracked mask fragment.

**"The little brat's an arrancar."**

"That's not possible. Aizen would not create a child arrancar," Tier said. She then directed a question at Nel. "What is your name?"

Nel shrunk behind me again, and I sighed. "She's shy," I explained. "One more thing, while you're listening and not thinking about ways to try and kill me. Aizen's dead."

Those words still felt so indescribably good when I said them aloud.

Less than a second after I said the words, the air in the room seemed to thicken.

"Aizen is dead?" Tier repeated, clearly surprised despite how composed she kept her features. I nodded.

"Yes. I killed him with my own hands."

Tier's eyes narrowed. "Admitting such a thing in front of one of his subordinates is dangerous, Shinigami."

"Did you really like him that much?" I asked, recalling times during the war when the surviving Espada had reminisced about their time under Aizen and the different experiences they'd had. Tier was grateful to Aizen for giving her the power to protect her Fracción, but the moment they had been threatened her loyalty was swayed.

"I owe him my loyalty for allowing me to protect my Fracción," Tier said, mirroring the memories in my mind. "But you are avoiding my question. You have asked me for my help, without answering my question as to why you would do such a thing. Why would a Shinigami seek assistance from a hollow? Especially knowing that you would be attacked for killing our leader."

"You won't attack me," I said calmly. Tier's eyes narrowed.

"What's stopping me?"

Her Reiatsu was rising again. It was lucky that I'd placed a barrier Kidō outside earlier, or the other Espada might have been alerted that something was amiss.

"No!"

Nel hopped off my shoulder and landed in front of Tier, stumbling only a little bit before recovering her balance and pointing an accusing finger at the blonde Espada in front of her. Zangetsu began to take a step forward, but then he glanced at me and stopped.

"Nel's name is Nel!" Nel declared, apparently still behind on the topic of conversation. "And Nel doesn't want you to hurt Itsygo!" Or not.

"You've got to be kidding me," I deadpanned. "She's saying it wrong in the exact same way."

"It-sy-go?" Tier repeated slowly, and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at hearing my butchered name come from Tier's mouth. Her gaze slowly turned to me. "Is that your name, Shinigami?"

"It's Ichigo Kurosaki. Not what Nel said."

"I see." Tier turned back to Nel. The young arrancar was still pointing at the Espada. "Why are you protecting this Shinigami?"

"Nel's protecting Itsygo because Itsygo protected Nel! And Itsygo promised to play with Nel after! So you can't hurt him, meanie!"

Tier blinked, caught off-guard by Nel's childishness. It was amusing to see, especially since Tier and Nel had been close friends during the war.

"He . . . protected you. But you are a Shinigami, boy. What do you have to gain from protecting hollows?"

I shrugged. "Allies and friends. Plus, I'd rather not have most of you wiped out when the Gotei Thirteen comes calling. They're going to figure out that Aizen was creating Espada soon enough, and I can make sure that they don't act on that knowledge."

"You would betray your own people?"

Nel was looking between Tier and I, totally lost, and her hand slowly dropped back to her side as she realized that I wasn't in immediate danger.

**"Don't make assumptions," **Zangetsu said, grinning. **"Technically, we aren't Shinigami."**

Tier's eyes flashed. "Your Reiatsu—I know that feeling. You are a hollow."

Zangetsu's grin widened. **"Guilty as charged, lady."**

"Look," I said, interrupting the two most powerful hollows in the room. "Tier, you're going to have questions. I'll answer them later, after I talk to some of the other Espada. I'm trying to make Las Noches and the upper echelons of hollows a better place, and I need to do it quickly. In the meantime, I need to know if you're willing to be my ally."

"Why would you ask such a question when you have given me no reason to say yes?"

I glanced down at Nel, then back up to Tier. "Well, someone has to watch her. Pesche and Dondochakka are terrible guardians."

Pesche said a weak protest, but I ignored it. Those two couldn't even shake off their nausea in all the time they'd had to do so.

"You're implying that I should be a babysitter."

"Pretty much."

Tier's eyes closed for a minute, and I let her think in silence. I knew where her thoughts were going; she was analyzing everything I'd done since I'd arrived and trying to see if I meant what I had said.

After what felt like hours of quiet, Tier opened her eyes. I hadn't moved the entire time, and neither had Zangetsu, though Nel had resumed her position on my back at one point only to be removed by Zangetsu one she started playing with the hilt of my cleaver blade.

"I will assist you in this regard, Shinigami," Tier said. "But I will do nothing else until you provide me with more information. Do something that I do not agree with, and the consequences will be dire."

"That's all I needed to hear. I'll be holding a meeting in the throne room in a while; I'll tell you everything then."

I began to turn around, only to be stopped by Nel's voice. Tier watched the exchange, her posture as rigid as a statue but promising death all the same.

"You're still gonna pway wit me, right, Itsygo?" She asked, her eyes wide. I smiled softly and crouched down, patting Nel's head.

"Of course, Nel. I promised to, didn't I? And I always keep my word."

The lie was like acid on my tongue, but I forced it out. It was enough to satisfy Nel, who, pacified, watched me leave the room without moving.

Zangetsu followed me out, and he only spoke once I closed the door.

**"That coulda gone better, King."**

"I know."

My inner hollow scoffed, glancing down the hallway before turning back to me, his golden eyes flashing.

**"Who's next, anyway?"**

I turned, looking at a certain spot in the distance where I sensed a particular Reiatsu; it was one that was familiar and yet so distant at the same time.

"I'm sure you can guess."

* * *

_A/N So yeah. I know most of you were probably looking forward to Ulquiorra or Grimmjow (however you spell it), but you'll have to wait. Sorry._

_Yes. This story is now OFFICIALLY ON HOLD. Please do not, I repeat, _please_ do **not** review with "please update". This is all I have written for this story and with school I am quite literally incapable of updating again anytime soon. I'm sure you guys can find something else to comment on._

**_Reviews:_**

**_Rosco Peeko Trane: _**_the Arrancar were created via the Hogyoku. Aizen was making trips to Hueco Mundo even before he made his defection obvious, so the Espada were all created before he left._

**_jcampbellohten: _**_I'm guessing you inferred my age from my complaining about high school. Ah, whatever. You're not too far off._

**_I plead the 5th: _**_nice, informative comment. Really, I just like the name you picked._

**_Guest:_**_ The Hogyoku was obliterated in Ichigo's attack. (before any of you go "but nobody could destroy it blah blah blah", Ichigo's way stronger than you think. He can destroy it. If you've got a problem with that, think, "does it _really matter_ in the grand scheme of things?" The answer is no.)_

**_Phantom Claire: _**_You know, I'm not entirely sure what you're asking. Assuming you're asking who Ichigo had sex with, that's not my place to say._

**_QueenOfDirt: _**_Nothin' to say on your review, but I like your name. Your kingdom must be utterly magnificent._

_If you've got any questions that you don't think a review would cover, feel free to PM me. Otherwise, I'd be happy to see your feedback on this story since it might inspire me to write more during my break. If you're a writer on this site, you'll know how great it feels to get reviews on your stories._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**

**_(_Please_.)_**

**_2/17/15 UPDATE: The next chapter for this story is coming out on *drum roll* March 7th! I'm thinking about doing a once-a-month update schedule, and I'll switch off with _Rift_ for every arc I finish. Hopefully. See you then!_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Yeah, this wasn't supposed to be posted for a week. I know. Problem is, my team kind of won a big game the other day, meaning that we are participating in a rather large and important (and various other adjectives) tournament that spans several days, including next Sunday. Therefore, I figured I should post this sooner rather than later._

_Welcome back to the world of _Rewind!_ Because it's been so long, here's a_ very quick_ summary of what's happened: Kisuke sent Ichigo back, Ichigo killed Aizen after nearly losing his mind from faking the events so that they would proceed normally, then Ichigo travelled to Hueco Mundo where he met Nel and Tier Harribel (and he dropped the former off with the latter)._

_So, yeah. Enjoy._

* * *

Chapter 6

I stood across from the arrancar, my arms crossed and my blades sheathed. Some of my Reiatsu leaked out, but it was intentional, and the barriers I had put up outside the room before entering ensured that I would not be interrupted while I spoke.

The arrancar, for his part, also kept his blade sheathed at his side. He regarded me with an unreadable expression, his hands in his pockets. His Reiatsu, so overwhelming to me the first time, was negligible in comparison to the vast reserves I commanded now.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, but not in the way that would precipitate conflict. Instead, it was more of a verbal tension, in which both of us were waiting for some cue to speak. He had already allowed me to come inside, which had put me in my current position. The layout of the room was familiar to me, partially because the layout and decoration was the exact same Spartan sort that Tier Harribel, the third Espada, had displayed in her own room.

This time, however, I didn't have to worry about a hyperactive Nel or groaning Pesche and Dondochakka. That, in itself, was a small blessing. Briefly, I reflected that I really had no right to dump those three on Tier, but hopefully she would be able to handle them until her Fracción returned from wherever they had gone. From what I had experienced in the future (which was technically never going to happen), Tier would most likely tie them up and wait for her Fracción, and then decide on a more appropriate course of action. That, or she would stare Nel down.

Tier's emotionless mask rivaled my own even now, which I found both disturbing and impressive, even considering the fact that she was a hollow.

Of course, there was another arrancar—an Espada—that rivaled and most likely outmatched Tier Harribel when it came to concealing emotions, and he was standing right in front of me.

Ulquiorra Cifer. The fourth Espada, though he deserved to be ranked higher. His Segunda Etapa had been invaluable during the war, though it was only Kisuke Urahara's crazy experiments, coupled with Mayuri's utter lack of morals that somehow brought him back.

I'd never bothered asking, because when Ulquiorra came back I was too busy fighting to care. All I knew was that we had another ally, and that was all that mattered. He'd been one of the strongest soldiers in the war, and despite his initial reservations about working with the Shinigami, Tier and Starrk and Nel eventually convinced him that it was for the best. Well, as "for the best" as taking sides in a cataclysmic war could get, anyway.

We had never been close; we had been allies and nothing more. I exchanged few words with him, and our conversations were always short and to the point. There was no need to beat around the bush. We were both blunt and both unwilling to spare the others' feelings, not that it really mattered with Ulquiorra. He grew to understand feelings, and even experience some of his own, but he never experienced them in the way that he had found so puzzling in Orihime.

Ulquiorra shifted minutely, indicating that the silent examinations were over.

"Who are you, and why did you come here?" Ulquiorra began, his expression and tone staying exactly the same. I blinked at the familiarity of the monotone and for the first time made direct eye contact with the hollow for more than a moment. Ulquiorra gave no real reaction besides a slight shift in his posture and narrowing of his eyes, but to me that was enough to discern that I puzzled Ulquiorra.

I suppressed a brief flutter of amusement at the thought. When I spoke, my voice was even and measured, though not as much as Ulquiorra's.

"My name is Ichigo Kurosaki, and I came here to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" Ulquiorra repeated flatly. "Why would Shinigami trash like you come to Las Noches? Is it because of—"

"Aizen?" I interrupted, raising one eyebrow. "No. He's dead."

Ulquiorra took the news with admirable calm.

"I presume that you were the one to kill him." It was impossible to tell whether Ulquiorra's words had been a statement or a question. I didn't care either way. Apparently, my non-reaction was enough for Ulquiorra to come to a conclusion. He frowned slightly, his lips just barely turning down at the corners. "That is impossible. Trash like you could never defeat—"

"I did," I cut in, hearing Zangetsu snicker in the background as he realized what I was doing. "Can you feel Aizen's Reiatsu anymore?"

The room descended into silence for a few moments as Ulquiorra scanned for Aizen's Reiatsu. I waited, knowing that he wouldn't find it. After about a minute, Ulquiorra's eyes widened in what would have been worthy of a gasp of surprise in another person.

"Impossible. Trash like you—this is a trick." Ulquiorra composed himself, his expression returning to one reminiscent of a rock. "Someone like you will never be strong enough to be victorious over—"

"Aizen," I said, eliciting another snicker from Zangetsu and a barely perceptible annoyed eyebrow twitch from Ulquiorra. "Look, this is pointless. It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not, but you can't deny the fact that Aizen is gone."

"You are nothing but Shinigami trash," Ulquiorra replied, a decidedly threatening tone—almost undetectable—sliding into his voice. "You are perfectly capable of using tricks."

At that, Zangetsu stopped snickering and the amusement faded from his features as quickly as it had come.

During the war against Aizen and, later, the Quincy, Zangetsu and I had been forced to use dirty and underhanded tactics just to preserve as many lives as possible, and even our own lives when things got bad. Every time, Zangetsu had taken it as a personal insult that his power, intelligence, and strength were not enough to overcome the enemy and that we were forced to essentially cheat to gain any ground during a battle.

And though Zangetsu had made peace with using cheap tactics and lies years ago, he and I still favored being blunt unless it was better for everyone that certain information or battle techniques remain secret or vague. After all, information during the wars had been extraordinarily plentiful and terribly scarce at the same time. Sifting through it took time and effort, and in a battle it was much the same, though I had been called a "battle genius" because I could sift through that information at speeds that most other warriors could only dream of.

I glanced at Zangetsu in a silent warning to back off, which my Zanpakutō did with a scowl. I then turned to face Ulquiorra again.

"Tricks?" I repeated, my tone becoming far more dangerous. After taking a split second to confirm the barrier around the room, I let far more of my Reiatsu leak out, though I kept it under tight control to ensure that Ulquiorra—and only Ulquiorra—was able to feel anything at all.

The emotionless arrancar stiffened in shock as my power slammed down around him and the air distorted in the room.

"Tricks?" I said again, not moving an inch and letting my anger become obvious. "You think I would need tricks to beat someone like Aizen?" A snarl formed across my lips. "Don't make me laugh."

At a signal from Zangetsu, I reeled in my power and smoothed out my expression as though nothing had just transpired. Ulquiorra was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his skin, but he maintained his composure. Now, however, I could tell that it was a bit rough around the edges, as though most of the seams had been ripped open.

Good.

"Now," I continued blandly, "I have a proposition for you, Ulquiorra, one that I don't think you're in a position to refuse."

The arrancar gave no verbal reply as he continued to pull himself together.

"You're going to be in the meeting room in an hour an a half, and you're not going to tell anyone else about this until then, am I understood?"

"Why should I follow your orders?"

There was uncertainty in Ulquiorra's tone, barely there but there all the same. He wasn't used to not having a leader; as strong as Ulquiorra was, he was not nearly as independent as a hollow like Grimmjow. The idea of his leader being defeated was alien to Ulquiorra, something he had never experienced before.

"Because I told you to," I said, authority lacing my every word as I automatically assumed the role of the leader I had needed to be during the war. "Because I'm the one that defeated your previous leader. Because I'm the one that's going to stop the Shinigami from stepping foot into Las Noches with the intention of killing you. Because, Ulquiorra Cifer, there is no one else alive to give you orders.

"Not because I'm going to kill you if you say no. Not because I'm going to threaten you if say no. Not because I will go do anything to you if you say no as long as you don't interfere with me."

I let the words hang in the air before finishing. "Because I'm the most logical choice. And, for the record—" I materialized my mask over my face, **"****stop calling me 'Shinigami trash', got it? It isn't accurate at all."**

The mask dissipated into Reishi a moment later but the killing intent it had brought with it remained, permeating every surface in the room and clearly showing my determination and experience.

Ulquiorra blinked once, twice, three times, and I could practically see his loyalties breaking down and reconstructing bit by bit. He wasn't going to fully commit to me yet, I could see that, but the groundwork was there, just as it was for Tier Harribel.

"One more thing," I said, sensing that my time Ulquiorra was nearing its end. "When this is all over, I won't expect anything from you that you aren't willing to do. Are you willing to agree to something like that?"

Once more, Ulquiorra took his time in answering the question, considering it carefully and without once giving away his thoughts to the outside world. I waited silently, well used to having my patience stretched to its limits thanks to people like Kisuke. After a minute, Ulquiorra appeared to come to a decision.

"I will fight for you only if you prove that you are worth fighting for."

I grinned tiredly. "Yeah, I figured you would say something like that."

Leaving the conversation at that, I turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door silently behind me and ignoring the way Ulquiorra's gaze continued to dig into my back in the moments before the opening closed completely.

**"Well that was nothin short of thrillin," **Zangetsu drawled sarcastically. I glanced at him, communicating silently that there was nothing more that I could do to make it more exciting. As we Flash-Stepped to the next arrancar's quarters, however, I decided to inform Zangetsu of the plan I had been forming since stepping over the threshold of Las Noches.

"After we talk with Starrk, we'll go to Grimmjow."

Zangetsu perked up at the news. **"Yer sayin we'll actually get ta fight?"**

"Yeah. He's not going to be very strong—"

**"Who cares?"** Zangetsu said dismissively. **"He'll get stronger." **The hollow grinned unsettlingly, his golden eyes flashing with anticipation. **"I call talkin ta him."**

I made a noise of agreement, knowing that Zangetsu's method of convincing people would work far better on Grimmjow than mine. Though I typically tried not to fight potential allies (though it usually happened whether I liked it or not), Zangetsu lived for fighting and if he happened to gain an ally while he was at it, all the better.

Five minutes later, I found myself standing outside an unremarkable gray door, my hand resting against the material—metal?—while I focused on keeping my breathing calm.

Seriously, how difficult could it possibly be to _open the door_?

**"I'll kick it down," **Zangetsu offered for the third time in as many minutes.

"We're. Not. Kicking. The door. Down," I ground out, trying to tell myself that as much as my deranged Zanpakutō. After a few more tense seconds, I took my hand off the door, ignoring the way my knuckles were slightly red from all the knocking I had done in the past few minutes, and took a step back.

**"And just what are ya goin ta do no—"**

Without even using an incantation, I blasted the door open with Kidō number one, Shō. The bent door flew backwards, rent from its holding with all the force of a raging tornado and slammed into the far wall with enough force to stick into the wall and remain suspended. The dust from the impact drifted into the air with surprising slowness before settling against the pillows and cushions that littered the floor.

**"Well," **Zangetsu commented, one eyebrow going up. **"Ya didn't kick it down, at least."**

I took one last deep breath, pushing down the thrill of possible violence that always shot through me at the mere hint of a fight before stepping into the room, picking up a cushion, and hurling it at the brown-haired man sprawled across the bed of cushions in the far corner, dangerously close to where the door was stuck into the wall.

"Wake up!" I growled. "I was outside for _ten goddamn minutes_ knocking on your door. Is that any way to treat an intruder?"

**"C'mon," **Zangetsu added, **"even I've got better manners than that. You two are pathetic; now get up, before my partner decides that I get ta do it instead."**

The virtual pile of pillows shifted and a man slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His brown hair stretched to his shoulders, while a small patch of facial hair decorated his chin.

Next to him, a pillow shot up, staying still for a moment before a small hand reached up and pulled it off, revealing a small child wearing a hollow-mask helmet and with green hair.

"What time is it?" The man asked, his voice laden with the traces of his disturbed sleep. The green-haired arrancar blinked before jolting awake and hitting the other, taller arrancar with a cushion repeatedly.

"Starrk!" Lilynette Gingerbuck snapped. "You! Fell! Asleep! Again! And you didn't wake me up so that I could wake you up! Lazy bastard!"

"Stop hitting me with—wait, that's my favorite pillow. Lilynette, stop. I'm going to be using that in a second. Lilynette, please. Stop." The attacks only increased in viciousness, gradually rousing Starrk from his slumber. "Ow, hey! This is getting—ow!"

Finally, Starrk reached his limit. With deceptive ease, the larger arrancar reached over and plucked the pillow from his partner's hands, bopped Lilynette over the head with it, and returned the pillow to a more logical position where he had been resting earlier.

"Hey, that was mine! Starrrrrrrrk!"

I cleared my throat, instantly gaining the hollows' attention.

"I'll make this quick," I said, eyeing the bed of cushions, "since you two clearly have more important things to do."

Lilynette stared at me for a moment before noticing the destroyed door sticking out of the wall. "Hold on. What happened to the door? Did you do that, Shinigami?"

"Wait, Shinigami?" Starrk asked, snapping to attention and getting to his feet in one smooth motion while automatically pushing Lilynette behind him. "How did you get in here?" The primera Espada asked, suspicion lacing his voice. "How did you get past the defenses? Why are you _here_, in this room?" Starrk paused, his eyes going wide as his senses finally registered the absence of a Reiatsu that had been all but permanent in Las Noches. "And where's Aizen?"

"He probably just stepped out to do one of his weird experiments," Lilynette suggested, peeking out from behind Starrk.

**"That ain't it," **Zangetsu said, examining his nails. Starrk stared at the Zanpakutō for a moment before turning his attention to me, probably sensing that I was the leader of our pair.

"Who are you, Shinigami?" Starrk's eyes examined every inch of his room, lingering on the doorway and the door that had once occupied it. "And why are you here, if it's not to kill us?"

He wasn't dumb. I felt a small glimmer of respect for Starrk; he had pieced together that information quickly. Though it wasn't complicated, I tended to come across people that took far too long to analyze seemingly simple facts and come to a conclusion.

Starrk had taken in my appearance, Zangetsu's appearance, the fact that we were still standing as far away as possible while still remaining in the room, our nonthreatening postures, our still-sheathed weapons, and the very important observation that Starrk and Lilynette were still very much alive. Starrk knew that I could have come into the room and killed him easily, but I hadn't, so the arrancar had pieced together the conclusion that I was not there to kill or attack him or Lilynette at all.

"I'll be blunt," I said, crossing my arms and ignoring the way Starrk's eyes followed my every movement. "I just need to talk. From what I gather, you're the most . . . amicable of the arrancar here. Therefore, this shouldn't take long."

"Why would a Shinigami—"

My mask was on in an instant. I dismissed it a moment later, but that second had been more than enough for Starrk.

"Not a true Shinigami, then," the hollow said, correcting his earlier words and taking the information in stride. "What is someone like you doing here?

"I said," I repeated, "I want to talk. If you haven't realized it, Aizen's dead. I killed him."

Starrk opened his mouth before closing it. The atmosphere in the room became decidedly more dangerous, and a silent test of wills took place between us in the minute that followed. I stared at Starrk resolutely, letting my determination shine through my gaze and little else.

Starrk's expression was difficult to read, but there was pain lurking in the back of his eyes, mixed in with something that looked suspiciously like—was that guilt?

_"Remember, Ichigo," _Old Man Zangetsu rumbled in my mind, _"Starrk owed Aizen a great debt for allowing him to interact with other hollows without disintegrating them. He sought to fight for Aizen to repay that debt."_

Right. I'd forgotten about that. After sending a wordless thanks to my Zanpakutō spirit, I returned my attention to Starrk, who was looking more and more conflicted by the second. No doubt, his debt o Aizen was warring with his seemingly nonviolent nature.

Right at the critical moment, when he was standing on the edge of either decision, I spoke.

"Vengeance doesn't seem like your style." My words made Starrk freeze and his and Lilynette's eyes snapped over to me instantly. "You owe Aizen something—I don't know what, probably wouldn't entirely understand even if you told me—but you shouldn't let that debt endanger your life. Aizen's gone; he was doing nothing but using you as a pawn in his game. I know that, in the end, he was planning on throwing your life and Lilynette's away just as soon as he no longer needed you. Plus, a debt can't be paid to a dead man."

Starrk pondered my words for a minute and I let him, content to sit in silence. It was becoming a pattern, I realized, but I didn't see any reason to break it. After all, it would be broken soon enough anyway.

"The main reason I came here is to get allies," I said quietly, silently reinforcing the barrier I had set up the moment I got within view of Starrk's door. "The Gotei Thirteen could screw up or need allies at some point, and you arrancar are great candidates. Even if you don't want to fight, a mutual let's-not-kill-each-other pact wouldn't hurt, especially since the Shinigami will come here sooner rather than later."

I took a deep breath. "They'll come after you, arrancar, and kill you without hesitation. I just need you to be in the meeting room in two hours, and I'll explain everything then."

Starrk frowned at my rather blunt way of stating things, though he seemed to appreciate it as well. At some point during our conversation, Lilynette and Zangetsu had gotten into a glaring contest that seemed to be far from over if their expressions were anything to go by.

After a few seconds' hesitation, Starrk slowly nodded. "I'll be there," he said, the laziness he had demonstrated fading to the background for just a moment. I acknowledged his words and then glanced at Zangetsu, noting the scowl on his face.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed Zangetsu's elbow with more force than entirely necessary and began to drag him out the door, ignoring his muttered complaints.

"Hey, Shinigami!" Starrk called after me. I paused, not bothering to correct Starrk again on the fact that I wasn't really a Shinigami. Not completely, anyway.

"What?"

"Are you strong?"

My mind flashed back to everything I had gone through and then I realized that Zangetsu was staring at me, which made my answer clear as crystal.

"Yes."

* * *

I stared straight ahead, my expression stony. Around me, skyscrapers stretched in to infinity in every direction, brushing against the clouds that drifted sideways in the darkened sky of my inner world.

It was strange, really. After the war, the weather of my inner world had grown slightly worse—the clouds were closer to a dark gray than white—but what had changed the most was the sky. Now, the sun no longer sat high in the sky. Instead, stars hung suspended in the heavens, twinkling with light. A massive full moon hung in the sky, close enough for me to pick out the individual craters on it and see the massive crack than ran it through the middle. The sight was awe-inspiring, made even more so by the multitude of galaxies I could see spiraling behind it. It was a sobering sight, one that never failed to calm me when I came to my inner world.

Though I had preferred the sun, I found that I was not averse to the moon. Even during the war and the months after, I had discovered that stargazing eased my nerves more so than any talking or battle.

At the moment, stars were streaking through the heavens in brilliant flashes before fading to nothing, representing my Reiryoku that was currently being used.

Outside my inner world, I knew that Zangetsu had initiated the fight with Grimmjow. The Sexta Espada had been only too happy to fight the supposed "intruder" and hadn't even bothered trying to see whether I was stronger than he was or not. Sometimes, Grimmjow's ignorance bothered me, but he had been an interesting ally during the war and though he was often insubordinate and outright disrespectful, he was powerful and capable of holding off a large number of Aizen's forces while other groups retreated or regrouped.

While letting out a deep breath, I sat down cross-legged on the building and faced the heavens above. After taking in the view for a few seconds, I closed my eyes and focused my breathing, letting my consciousness flow freely and completely sliding over the hollow instincts that Zangetsu's taking over of my body had increased. Now that I was calm and focused, it was far easier to accept them and move on than it had been when I was angry or upset.

With an ease that belied how long it had taken me to achieve it, I slid my consciousness next to Zangetsu's so that I could witness everything that was happening through my own senses, though I couldn't interfere.

It was still an odd sensation, I mused, to have someone else blinking my eyes and moving my limbs. But Zangetsu _was_ me, and though we favored different fighting styles we had become almost the same person as time passed so that we really were two sides of the same coin.

Many times, I had forgotten that he was a hollow.

Many times, _he_ had forgotten that he was a hollow.

"Yes, yes!" Grimmjow laughed, standing a few meters away on the sandy floor of Las Noches. He was breathing somewhat heavily, though not all that noticeably. "You're strong!" He grinned crazily, drawing his sword and pointing it at Zangetsu. "I like that, kid! Let's get started!"

Zangetsu leaped forward while stretching my face into a grin that made my facial muscles twinge in discomfort, though my Zanpakutō seemed to be entirely unbothered.

Though Zangetsu had placed numerous limits on himself—no Shunpo or Sonido unless absolutely necessary, only weak Getsuga Tenshō attacks, etc.—the hollow still appeared to be enjoying himself. He let out a laugh, my voice tinged with his hollow echoes thanks to the mask that had already formed over half of my face.

"I know you're holdin back on me, kid!" Grimmjow jeered as we—Zangetsu—locked blades with him again. The arrancar abruptly disengaged and hit Zangetsu with a kick to the abdomen.

Or, he would have, had Zangetsu not grabbed his foot and stopped the attack with ease.

**"Against you," **Zangetsu hissed, **"holdin back is the only way I'll enjoy myself."**

Grimmjow spat out several curses before Zangetsu turned and threw him bodily into a massive red pillar that stretched out of the sand. The impact made a massive crater and cracks spiraled out of the area where Grimmjow had hit the pillar, while large chunks began falling to the ground from the top. The entire thing was hidden in a massive explosion of dust, but that dust was dispersed quickly as Grimmjow swung his sword and leaped back towards Zangetsu, red light accumulating in his hand.

"Cero!" The hollow spat, and the beam of destruction shot at Zangetsu. Zangetsu dove to one side, narrowly avoiding the blast and ignoring the way some of the sand next to him had been glassed from the power of the attack.

**"Try harder!"** Zangetsu snapped, avoiding a follow-up swipe of Grimmjow's blade and kicking the hollow in the stomach instead. Grimmjow's breath left his body in an explosive, painful gasp before he was rocketed away. This time, however, the arrancar managed to slow down and eventually stop before hitting anything, though he was wincing.

"I underestimated you," he admitted, straightening and continuing to look down on Zangetsu. He seemed oddly displeased at that, though with a shrug Grimmjow shook it off. "Well, I'll fix that." He quickly placed his hand along the blade of his sword before swiping it down while calling, "Grind, Pantera!"

In an explosion of blue Reiatsu, Grimmjow's appearance changed. It was difficult to tell exactly what happened because of the dust, but my Reiatsu senses made it easy to see that Grimmjow was entering his Resurrección.

His more feline appearance sparked memories of fighting alongside him in the war, but I pushed them aside.

"You're going to die, Shinigami!" Grimmjow promised. "But give me a good show, first!"

**"I was gonna say the same thing!"** Zangetsu snarled, holding up our sealed blade. Wordlessly, he released one of the limiters on our body and kept the subsequent flood of Reiryoku strictly controlled so that Grimmjow wouldn't sense it in our Reiatsu. Wordlessly, he entered Shikai.

In a moment, the sealed blade had separated into two, a trench blade and a cleaver, both with blades as black as the darkest midnight.

Grimmjow let out a cackling laugh. "Finally, Shinigami! Your shikai _and_ a mask; I was starting to wonder whether you were even strong enough to do that!"

**"Let's get one thing straight, Grimmjow," **Zangetsu replied, his grin widening as he prepared to attack. **"I'm not a Shinigami!" **

They collided in an explosion of sparks as Grimmjow slipped into a high-speed series of punches and kicks that Zangetsu dodged and blocked using both blades before striking back. Grimmjow dropped down a meter to dodge and then swiped up, hoping to catch Zangetsu's feet. Zangetsu leapt up to avoid the blow and swiped down with his cleaver blade, charging it with Reiryoku.

**"Getsuga Tenshō!"**

Grimmjow disappeared in an explosion of power and a subsequent eruption of dust. Zangetsu didn't give him any respite and leaped into the dust cloud, his senses pinpointing Grimmjow's location easily.

The arrancar barely reacted in time, and even then Zangetsu struck a glancing blow down his side before slamming into the ground, creating a small crater from the impact. Blood flew from the wound and splattered against the ground, and Grimmjow was glaring at Zangetsu, his eyes filling with frustration and rage as the pain from the burn stretching across his abdomen and the cut down his side registered.

"The hell?" Grimmjow growled. "How are you cutting through my Hierro so easily, Shinigami? I'm not that weak!"

**"Tch."**

Zangetsu jumped forward and swiped at Grimmjow, opening up another shallow cut on the arrancar's face before Grimmjow used Sonido to get out of range.

**"Ya don't understand," **Zangetsu said, stopping and resting our cleaver blade on his shoulder and letting the trench blade hang at his side, his expression becoming slightly more serious. **"Ya can't beat me, Grimmjow. I ain't a Shinigami, and no matter what ya try ya wont even be able to put a scratch on me."**

"Shut up!" Grimmjow snapped, holding out one of his arms. "Garra de la Pantera!"

Zangetsu grinned and didn't move a muscle as the crystalline stone darts slammed into our body.

They shattered, the pieces scattering around us in the ensuing shocked silence. Grimmjow looked shocked, his face whitening as he began to realize that his title as King was rapidly slipping away from him. Abruptly, his expression shifted to one of fury.

"Don't think you can look so smug! I'll rip you apart!"

I sensed Grimmjow's power building, concentrating around his fingers. Blue light built around his fingertips, rapidly growing as Grimmjow swept his arms out to his sides. The blue light quickly grew and solidified, revealing Reishi claws that gave Grimmjow impressive range and—judging from the Reiatsu the arrancar was now emitting—power.

"Desgarrón," Grimmjow growled, glaring at Zangetsu with hatred in his eyes. "It's my strongest technique. You're dead."

**"That's kinda why I'm here,"** Zangetsu drawled sarcastically, intentionally antagonizing the arrancar. Grimmjow snarled and swept forward, the glowing blue Reishi claws sweeping towards Zangetsu with alarming speed.

Zangetsu's expression only became more crazed as he brought up both his blades to counter the blue claws. Three missed us entirely and blinded us with dust, making it far more difficult to see where the next attacks were coming from. Since the claws were Reishi, we couldn't even sense them.

We could sense Grimmjow, however, and turned to face him as he moved, seeing nothing but a silhouette through the particles in the air.

The arrancar seemed to jump towards Zangetsu but he suddenly stopped. Zangetsu scowled, taking the cleaver and sweeping it to one side to disperse the dust in the air. It cleared, but the move had left Zangetsu open and before we could react one blue claw had pierced our back. Its power had been greatly dispersed by the Hierro, but enough remained for it to go deep into my flesh.

**"Dammit," **Zangetsu muttered, looking down at the wound as the claw dispersed. Blood gushed forth and the pain of the injury registered, making me scowl mentally.

_You got careless._

**_"Shut up, I know! It's because I couldn't sense the damn thing!"_**

_But our instincts were telling us to be careful and you weren't._

**_"Shut the hell up, King!"_**

Zangetsu's frustration meant that I had to divert my attention to the fury that was rising up like an ominous wave in my mind. Even while distracted, I still saw Zangetsu heal the wound with barely a glance and glare at Grimmjow.

**"That's it," **Zangetsu growled. **"You're done!"**

Zangetsu leaped forward with speed that Grimmjow couldn't hope to match. His blades were nothing more than black blurs in the air, every swipe drawing blood from the arrancar. Zangetsu didn't stop even when Grimmjow's defense began to weaken and his counters stopped altogether, and he ruthlessly exploited Grimmjow's openings, aiming for the most painful spots he could see.

I could tell that Zangetsu was truly angry; angry that he had taken a hit, and angry that he had done so in a situation where it was entirely his own fault.

Zangetsu finished his latest series of jabs and cuts and then roundhouse-kicked Grimmjow down hard enough to create velocity rings before Grimmjow slammed into the ground, creating a massive crater and even more dust. Zangetsu dispersed the latter within moments and dove down, intent on not giving Grimmjow a chance to recover.

Grimmjow, however, had managed to stagger to his feet and, with hatred in his eyes, he cut one of his hands and began charging a Gran Ray Cero. It crackled with blue Reiatsu and then fired, heading straight for Zangetsu. The blue energy thrummed with power as it shot through the air with dizzying speed.

The sword spirit swung his blade and easily cut through the attack as though it was nothing, taking savage pleasure in the shocked look on Grimmjow's face before jumping forward and planting both his feet on Grimmjow's chest. The arrancar slammed back into the ground hard enough to break several bones, though Zangetsu had made sure that none of his injuries would be critical.

**"You. Cannot. Beat. Me."** Zangetsu emphasized the last word by stabbing his blades into Grimmjow's arms, pinning the blue-haired hollow in place. Judging from the agonized howl that burst from Grimmjow's mouth, the injuries were painful enough to warrant an involuntary response. **"Surrender."**

Grimmjow snarled. "Hell no. I'm still . . . the king here, Shini—agh!"

Zangetsu took his hand off the hilt of the cleaver blade, watching carelessly as the new blood poured from Grimmjow's widened injury thanks to Zangetsu twisting the sword. **"I ain't a Shinigami; get that through yer thick skull. I'd prefer not ta kill ya if I had the choice; hell, I only came out here 'cause I wanted a good fight."**

"Damn you!" Grimmjow shouted, gritting his teeth in pain. "I ain't gonna surrender to some weakling like you! I'm the king! I'm the strongest!"

**"Yer not the king." **Zangetsu dug his knee painfully into Grimmjow's abdomen, aggravating several bleeding cuts that were already there. Grimmjow hissed in pain, but gave no other reaction. **"Yer never gonna be the king, either."**

Zangetsu let the words hang in the air before continuing. **"Now, ya got two choices. Ya can join forces with me and survive, or I can kill ya right here and now."**

Grimmjow made to speak but Zangetsu talked over him with ease. **"If ya pick the second option, things are gonna do downhill for ya very quickly. If ya pick the first one, well, I'll help ya out." **I didn't need a mirror to know that Zangetsu was practically leaking insanity and bloodlust. **"I need good fightin partners, and yer not half bad. And if my other half is gonna keep yer arrancar asses out of Soul Society's line of fire, ya need ta stay here and help 'im out. Yer strong, I'll giva ya that. But ya could be so much stronger."**

"I don't need your stupid charity," Grimmjow snarled. "Just kill me and get it over with, bastard."

**"Ain't gonna happen."**

Zangetsu stood, ripping his blades out of Grimmjow's arms with little finesse and ignoring the way the arrancar clenched his jaw to avoid revealing his pain again. With a flick of his wrist, Zangetsu returned the blades to their sealed state and slung the Zanpakutō over his shoulder into the sheath that hung there. He then glanced down at Grimmjow before rolling his eyes.

**_"All yers, King."_**

With that, Zangetsu receded from control and all but shoved me into his place. The mask that had completely covered my face during the fight disappeared and the black disappeared from my eyes, taking the golden irises with it and leaving nothing but amber and white.

"So that's what he meant by other half," Grimmjow said, his eyes narrowing despite the pain clouding his features.

"Better half," I corrected, kneeling down next to the arrancar and holding my hands over the worst of his wounds. With barely any effort I channeled my Reiryoku into my hands and began using healing Kaidō, a talent I had picked up during the more desperate times of the war. I was no Unohana, or even most of the upper levels of the Fourth Division, but I was perfectly capable of doing a quick patch job. Grimmjow's Instant Regeneration would take care of the rest.

Grimmjow watched me, and I absently noted the confusion that was slowly filling his features. "The hell? Are you _healing _me? After you tried to fuckin kill me?"

I rolled my eyes, not bothering the say that it had been Zangetsu trying to kill him since technically Zangetsu _was_ me. Instead, I settled on the simple answer. "Yes."

"Why the hell are you doing that? Were you born stupid?"

I leveled Grimmjow with one of my best glares. "Idiot. I'm not going to leave you here to die, and I need your help. Hueco Mundo is going to go to shit in a few hours because of what I've done and you're going to be among the strongest hollows remaining. You're going to have to control the uproar."

"The fuck? Why would I do that? I'd rather just klll yo—"

Grimmjow choked as the full force of my available Reiatsu (a rather large amount since I hadn't resealed my Reiatsu) crashed down around him, freezing the words in his throat and rendering him helpless. "Don't make threats you can't follow through on," I advised calmly, my expression never changing as I went back to restoring Grimmjow's Reiatsu and Reiryoku so that the idiot could heal his own injuries.

The arrancar coughed and took in several gasping breaths out of sheer reflex when I withdrew my Reiatsu and shot me a look of hatred, but there was something else buried beneath it: grudging respect.

I had come to the conclusion that Grimmjow was the type of being to respect power. But not just power; he also automatically tested those who appeared better than him to see if they deserved that title. Even if they did, as I did, Grimmjow probably never saw any reason to afford them any more respect than absolutely necessary. He was only compliant as long as it suited him.

And as long as Zangetsu continued to spar with him, Grimmjow would find that our arrangement suited him just fine.

"F-fuck you," Grimmjow muttered, staring at me with pain-filled eyes. I ignored his insult.

"You say you're some kind of king, but killing everyone you happen to dislike makes you a king with no subjects." Grimmjow's eyes narrowed in response to my words. I looked him in the eye, determined to get my message across. "What's the point in that? If you really do hate me, Grimmjow, that's fine. I'll fight you any day of the week. But you're not meant to die here, and you know it."

I stopped healing Grimmjow for a moment and pinned him with a look. "If you forced me to kill you here, what would those hollows you've eaten think?"

Grimmjow attempted to answer but I talked over him. "That you're weak. Face it: you're not at my level and probably never will be. You're not strong enough, but you know that. You're trying to make up for that in tenacity." I cocked my head to one side. "That's not going to work either."

"Don't lecture me!" Grimmjow spat, but I could see him wavering. The instinctual desire to grow stronger was practically all that Grimmjow was made of; he wanted to _be_ the strongest, to be his _own_ master.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. But I'd let him get as close as he could.

"I'm not lecturing you," I said, beginning to heal the arrancar beneath me again. "I'm giving you a choice. What's it gonna be, Grimmjow? Either we're allies or you die right here by my blade without even giving me a proper fight."

And then, before Grimmjow could reply, a Reiatsu signature that I had been sensing for the past few minutes suddenly appeared right behind me with the signature buzz of Sonido, killing intent clear.

I didn't even turn around, instead using one hand to unsheathe my Zanpakutō and block the oddly shaped blade heading for my neck using a reverse grip.

"I wanted to deal with you later," I said, glancing at Nnoitra Gilga, fifth Espada, out of the corner of my eye. "But you insisted on coming out here and interrupting my talk with Grimmjow."

"That's only fair," Nnoitra hissed, "since that pathetic weakling got himself beaten by a Shinigami and a young one at that."

"I'm older than I look," I said, still not stopping my task of healing Grimmjow, who looked vaguely shocked that I had blocked Nnoitra's strike with one hand as well as the fact that I easily could have avoided the blow and left Grimmjow to take it in my place. "Now, do me a favor, and fuck off."

I released the Getsuga Tenshō I had been charging with a flick of my wrist. It enveloped Nnoitra in an instant, giving him no warning or chance to brace himself. The entire atmosphere of Las Noches seemed to darken for a moment as black energy eclipsed the light before fading to nothing, leaving the smoking and barely standing body of Nnoitra in its wake.

"Bet you thought you had me there," Nnoitra gasped, wiping his mouth. "But I—" he stuck out his tongue, revealing the tattoo before pulling it back into his mouth as though thinking I would be intimidated by it, "—am the fifth Espada! I don't go down that easily and I have the best Hierro of any of the Esp—urk!"

"Shut. Up," I said, my voice deceptively quiet. I didn't need to speak loudly, given that I had just buried my Zanpakutō in Nnoitra's chest. Without further ado, I ripped it out viciously, nearly bisecting Nnoitra before leaving him to fall on the ground in a bloody pool. The arrancar crashed backwards, his eyes wide with shock and pain even as his weapons fell to the sand beside him, kicking up small puffs of dust from their weight.

I glanced back at him once, scowling. "Die a pathetic death, Nnoitra Gilga. You don't deserve anything better." And then, more quietly so that only Nnoitra would hear, I said, "Nel sends her regards."

The arrancar's eyes widened and he struggled to say something before his muscles went slack and the light in his eyes died completely. His Reiatsu followed suit, until there was no sign besides his fresh blood and still-warm body that Nnoitra had ever been alive at all.

Grimmjow was staring at me, his head turned to one side on the sand since he still couldn't move very easily yet (I had made sure to only heal the injuries enough so they wouldn't be life-threatening).

**_"Fuckin dick. He deserved that."_**

I knew that Zangetsu was referring to Nnoitra and not Grimmjow.

_"I agree. That Espada is disgusting and deserves that kind of death."_

"So that's what you meant," Grimmjow muttered, probably not realizing that I could hear him easily.

"Yeah," I responded, kneeling next to him. "I'm going to actually heal you now."

"The hell were you doing before?"

"Waiting for Nnoitra to show. I sensed him watching our fight."

Grimmjow grit his teeth. "Bastard. He had no right."

"It doesn't matter now—he's dead. Anyway, don't move. If you do, I'll put you back into that world of pain and leave you there for as long as I can."

"You make it sound so tempting. Fine. But this ain't over. I never even got your name."

I grunted, watching the green light as it flowed around my hands. "Ichigo Kurosaki, at your service. And you are?"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

We were silent for a few more minutes until I finished with my patch job. "You can use instant regeneration, right?"

Grimmjow scowled. "Yeah." The "not very well" was implied.

"Then use it. I restored most of your Reiatsu and Reiryoku, so it shouldn't be a problem."

The arrancar did as he was told—though not without some complaint—and got to his feet, staggering for a moment and almost falling. I grabbed his arm and hauled him back upright, letting go the moment I could without risking Grimmjow falling again.

Grimmjow looked moments away from hitting my hand away anyway.

"I don't need your help," he growled.

"Too late. You already got it. So do you accept the deal or not?"

The arrancar set his jaw and glared at me for a solid minute before he sighed, the last of his bloodlust slipping away for the time being. "Fine. I'll accept if that makes you feel better. But I want a rematch soon."

I raised an eyebrow. Even after seeing me defeat Nnoitra with ease, Grimmjow was still eager to fight. That kind of tenacity was as impressive as it was foolish.

But it was better than having to kill him, so I nodded. "Good. Go to Aizen's meeting room; there should be others waiting there. I'll arrive later."

Grimmjow fixed me with a hard look. "You're goin after the other Espada, aren't you?"

"You make it sound like there will be some kind of fight," I mused, turning away and letting my hair shadow my eyes from the light. Even so, the bloodlust and hints of insanity in my voice were clear. "That's not how it's going to happen."

"Tch. Whatever. Just give me a good fight later, Ichigo."

I grinned slightly and offered no verbal response, though my agreement was clear. After that, I disappeared through Shunpo, seeking out my remaining targets.

The ones who weren't going to survive.

* * *

_A/N And that's it for today. I hope you guys found this update nice after such a long wait. And man, Grimmjow has a death wish._

_Reviews:_

_ultima-owner: I've actually never thought about that. It makes a hell of a lot more sense when I think about it like that; maybe water attacks just prevent him from using the wet sand and that's why Rukia's attacks worked in canon._

_jcampbellohten: A little bit of both the ones you guessed, really._

_raiton2000: The Visored will be coming up in a while._

_QueenKarin13: Ichigo does intend to keep his promise to Nel. He's just remembering all the times during the war when he wasn't able to keep his promise of protecting others._

_There were so many of you who reviewed, so thank you for taking the time to do that! I hope to hear from you lot again and if you have any questions leave them in a review and I'll do my best to answer them._

_Remember, check my profile for probable update times or other pressing news about this or my other stories. I'm thinking that the next update will be in a month or so._

_Until next time,_

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	7. Chapter 7

_It's been a while since I've had to say this, but some of you have very, _very_ interesting names. _

_Man, I'm tired. Hopefully I caught all the spelling/grammar errors, but it's late so I can't be sure._

* * *

Chapter 7

I walked through the doors as though I belonged in the darkness that lingered in the massive room past them. The building contained no windows, allowing none of the light from the synthesized atmosphere of Las Noches to filter through. Even so, my eyes adapted to the low lighting quickly and my Reiatsu senses picked out my target well enough.

"You know," I drawled, my casual tone barely hiding the disgust and anger I felt, "I know a few people that would be irritated that you're wearing my relative's face."

A figure glanced down at me from the platform high above, its face hidden in shadow. "Who are you?"

"Jump down here and I'll tell you. Then I'll do you and the world a favor and eviscerate you."

The figure laughed, clearly male. "Eviscerate me, huh? Bold words." He jumped down, landing in front of me with impressive ease. I barely even reacted to the image of a face eerily similar to mine that stared back at me.

Change the hair and eye color, restructure the face just a tiny bit, and I was looking at a reflection of myself.

I kept my Reiatsu at the levels of a typical Gotei Thirteen lieutenant to give the Espada in front of me a false sense of security. I could see the hunger buried beneath his borderline jovial expression and it sickened me.

"You could say I'm a bold person," I said. "Kaien Shiba, right?" My eyes narrowed, a dangerous tone sliding into my voice. "Or should I say Aaroniero Arruruerie, the Ninth Espada?"

The hollow wearing Kaien Shiba's face tensed, but before it could move I had already placed a strong Bakudō barrier around the building, sealing off all the exits. The walls shimmered for the briefest of moments, alerting the Espada to what I had done.

"My name's Ichigo Kurosaki," I continued blandly, drawing my Zanpakutō and watching as the Espada did the same. "And I'm going to kill you for desecrating the memory of Lieutenant Kaien Shiba and being a dick in general. You don't have a choice in this."

Aaroniero didn't even have time to open his mouth before I had leaped forward and separated his head from his body. Instantly, the transformation into Kaien wore off and revealed the hollow's true form, the odd container breaking open and spilling onto the floor. I crushed the heads to dust without a second thought and then vaporized the rest of Aaroniero's body with a neat Getsuga Tenshō.

It felt good, knowing that Rukia wouldn't have to go through that trauma again.

Though she would have to talk to Kūkaku again or something of the sort to work out the extra guilt she still carried around with her. That wasn't my area, though, so there wasn't much I could really do with it.

"Perish, Aaroniero Arruruerie, and know that it was a descendent of the Shiba family that destroyed you."

The Espada's ashes drifted around the room as I opened the door and left.

* * *

My eyes narrowed as I took in the lab door standing before me. It was made of an odd material, one that disturbed my senses and prevented me from detecting who or what was beyond it. The entire place made me sick and I was torn between turning the whole thing to dust in an instant or giving the Espada inside his due punishment. A quick death was too merciful for any of these hollows, but I was on a tight schedule. After all, Starrk, Lilynette, Tier, Ulquiorra, and Grimmjow were all waiting for me in Aizen's meeting hall or throne room.

I should probably remember which one I sent them to.

**"Meeting room," **Zangetsu muttered, eyeing me and probably guessing where my thoughts were. **"Ya sent 'em ta the meeting room." **He tilted his head to one side, genuine concern flickering across his features. He'd materialized after I'd nearly collapsed in one hallway once memories of fighting in Las Noches had overwhelmed me and stolen my sense of balance. **"Ya okay? Ya've been spacin out more than usual."**

"I'm fine," I said quietly. "But I know I won't like what's on the other side of that door."

Zangetsu scowled, glancing at said door and looking like he wanted to destroy it even more than I did. **"You'll be fine, King. Keep calm; it ain't like he was the one torturin ya."**

"He had a hand in it."

**"Before Kisuke and Mayuri kicked his ass ta Hell."**

"He was purified and sent to Soul Society."

**"I'm tryin ta make ya feel better, dammit!"** Zangetsu snapped. **"Accept it!"**

I grinned tiredly, clapping Zangetsu on the back and ignoring the surprised expression on the face. "I was waiting for you to say that. Now come on; we've got more Espada to kill."

Zangetsu rolled his eyes. **"Tch. 'S always the dramatic with ya."**

Nevertheless, Zangetsu returned to my inner world.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to enter the state of mind I usually reserved to battle, in which I focused on my target and nothing else. Nothing was going to stop me or distract me from my goal.

Nothing.

I slammed open the door and strode inside, my expression completely, ominously blank as none of my feelings leaked into my barely detectable Reiatsu.

"Szayelaporro Granz," I announced, my voice carrying easily in the lab around me, full of contents I refused to focus on and experiments I would not look at. "Your end has come."

"Oh really? And who would you be?"

The owner of the smooth, irritatingly cultured voice quickly revealed himself as he stepped out of the shadows of the lab, screens flickering behind him.

"Perhaps," the Espada continued, "you would be the intruder that was sneaking around the castle earlier in hopes of avoiding my sensors?"

"I knew your sensors picked me up when I first entered and when I was letting them," I said dismissively. "That's not what's important."

"When you let them?" Szayelaporro raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side, amusement coloring his tone. "Are you seriously implying that you are fast enough to avoid my sensors? Please, don't jest. It's unbecoming."

"So is ruthless experimentation," I drawled, "but that doesn't seem to be stopping you."

"Sarcasm? Such a barbaric form of speaking. It pains me simply to hear your voice."

"Is that so?" I drew Zangetsu, leveling the blade at Szayelaporro. "Well then, allow me to fix that problem."

A moment later, I landed behind Szayelaporro, completing the Shunpo technique. When I straightened and turned, I heard Szayelaporro gasp in pain. His ears fell from his head, separated from the latter by my blade with precision and in less time than it took the arrancar to blink.

"Better?" I asked, flicking the blood off my Zanpakutō. "Or would you like me to stop you from even seeing my lips move as well?"

"Bastard," Szayelaporro gasped, drawing his sword. His Reiatsu began building.

"Don't think I'll let you go into Resurrección," I said mildly, using Shunpo once more and severing Szayelaporro's hands from his body. The appendages—and his sword—fell and clattered against the tile floor.

Szayelaporro let out a cry of pain and staggered away from me, holding the stumps of his arms under his armpits to try to slow the bleeding. It was pathetic to look at.

I began walking towards him, kicking his sword away while I walked. It skidded across the ground, eventually stopping when it hit a bank of monitors.

"D-d-don't get so cocky, Shinigami!"

Without even turning, I flicked my wrist and destroyed the hollows that had come bursting through the ground behind me. In less than ten seconds they had disappeared entirely, leaving nothing but the destruction of their entry in their wake.

Szayelaporro was shaking, his eyes darting from me, to my sword, to the remains of his subordinates, and then back to me again.

"I know what you're trying to do," I said, pinning Szayelaporro in place with a glare. He froze, twitching spasmodically. "You're trying to signal the other Espada with your Reiatsu by triggering an alarm you rigged in your lab."

After a brief moment of concentration, I pointed my finger towards the alarm I had noticed on my way in. "Hadō number four, Byakurai."

The lightning bolt pierced the alarm and rendered it useless in an instant.

"That won't work," I finished belatedly, lowering my hand. "I have a Kidō barrier around this room; even if you raised your Reiatsu as high as it can go, it wouldn't be detectable to someone standing on the other side of that wall. Your life is over." I allowed my lips to stretch into a macabre parody of a smile. "Think of it as recompense for your hand in injuring Nel."

No, I had never forgiven those bastards for hurting Nel. I was taking extraordinary satisfaction in tearing them apart.

"Get away from me!" Szayelaporro cried, turning to run only to find me standing in front of him once more, the Flash Step so fast he hadn't even registered it.

"No," I said, my expression and voice deceptively calm as I buried my cleaver blade in Szayelaporro's heart. The hollow choked but kept moving, the sick experiments he had no doubt done on his own body keeping him alive but only barely.

Right up until my trench blade severed Szayelaporro's head from his body. Both parts fell to the floor with a dull thump, blood rapidly pooling around them. I took a few steps to avoid the crimson puddles and then turned around entirely.

I didn't even turn when a rushing wind filled the lab or when a dark presence prickled at my senses. The Gates of Hell no longer held the same fear for me as they had before; I'd been _in_ Hell and I'd fought my way out. Even so, the sound of Szayelaporro's body being dragged into the void (and its other pieces) was satisfying, almost as much as the reverberating sound of the Gates of Hell slamming shut.

On my way out, I couldn't help noticing the various tubes and other devices that dotted the walls. My eyes narrowed.

A minute later, Szayelaporro's lab was nothing but a smoking wreck.

* * *

"Hadō number four," I whispered, pointing my index finger at the Espada meditating below me, "Byakurai."

The quick bolt of lightning shot out of my hands, but even with its speed the Espada managed to dodge it with a skillful use of Sonido.

"Good attempt, Shinigami," Zommari Rureaux scoffed, regarding me coldly as I dropped to the floor of his large quarters. "But I have the fastest Sonido of all the Espada. You cannot hope to defeat me with such cheap tricks."

He vanished with the peculiar buzzing sound that indicated Sonido, but I merely stepped to one side to avoid his strike. He'd dodged my Byakurai through sheer luck; if I was as good at the spell as Byakuya, I probably could have killed him in one shot. "Cheap tricks?" I repeated, drawing my cleaver and turning to face Zommari. "No. A cheap trick was letting you think you were faster than me."

The Espada didn't even have time to blink before his severed head began falling to the floor. At the same moment when it hit the ground, I flicked the blood off my blade and sheathed it in one smooth motion.

_Only a few more to go._

_"Don't let your guard down."_

**_"Just hurry it up. This is gettin boring!"_**

* * *

My last set of targets was all in their own wing of Las Noches. Really, it was laughably easy to seal off that area and destroy any chance of escape. It suited their arrogance, though, and considering that I needed to kill them quickly it was actually quite convenient.

My Shunpo was swift and silent as I stalked the halls, stretching out my senses to find the Reiatsu of the arrancar I was searching for.

I would have to be careful with this target; one wrong move could land me in a very difficult position. His power was not one that could be taken lightly or simply overcome; time was, after all, an unavoidable part of life and death.

Baraggan Louisenbairn. His arrogance put Aizen's to shame and may have even rivaled Byakuya's back when he didn't distinguish between right and wrong when it came to orders. His Resurrección, while not based on sheer power, was devastating in its possibilities. Even his Fracciónes were incredibly loyal and possessed enough power to rival lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen.

Which was why they all needed to die. I couldn't risk anyone becoming a threat to the Gotei Thirteen that I didn't absolutely know about. I could deal with Togabito, I could deal with rebelling Zanpakutō, but I was _not_ dealing with overzealous arrancar.

Casting out my senses, I pinpointed the locations of Baraggan's five Fracciónes. Two of them were with Baraggan himself and the other three were in separate rooms.

A minute later, I was standing over the room that Baraggan was seated in, making sure to keep my Reiatsu muffled. Behind me, the bodies of the three Fracciónes were already beginning to dissipate into Reishi.

_The only thing I can think of is a sudden, high-intensity Getsuga Tenshō. If I focus, I can make it dense and powerful enough to disintegrate him._

**_"Sounds good. Do it."_**

_"But be prepared for the chance that he survives the attack."_

With the mental equivalent of a wave of acknowledgement, I began channeling my Reiryoku into my cleaver blade. Then, realizing that it would be best to go overkill, I unsheathed my oversized trench knife as well. I raised them above my head, still keeping a tight reign on my Reiatsu and giving Baraggan no warning of his impending demise.

"Getsuga Jūjishō," I whispered, bringing the blades down and releasing the pent-up power they contained.

The attack crashed into the surprised Espada before he could even realize what was happening and though he struggled in vain for a minute against the roaring wave of destructive power, his defenses were rapidly overwhelmed. I allowed a grim smile to cover my face when I sensed his Reiatsu vanish alongside his body. Even his Fracciónes were gone, vaporized in the blast that only Baraggan had even had a chance of surviving.

The shockwave the attack created upon hitting the floor caused debris borne aloft on sudden winds to hurtle in my direction, but my Hierro did more than enough to protect me as I turned and started walking away, back through the hole I had carved in wall. The insibility Kidō (though it was more designed to help users blend into dark spaces rather than completely obscure them) had worn off the moment I had released my attack, but that was really all it was designed for; Suì-Fēng had taught it to me so that I could wait and ambush targets.

* * *

My mix of Sonido and Shunpo carried me over the sands of Hueco Mundo at speeds that would leave other Shinigami spinning in the dust. For the sake of increasing my speed I had released my seal, and though my Reiatsu was still impossible to detect for other people I took great joy in the feeling of the power coursing through me.

The last Espada I was searching for was not in Las Noches. Apparently, he had gone in search of strong Adjuchas in order to gain strength.

It didn't really matter to me; he wasn't going to have the chance to release his Zanpakutō and he would be dead before he realized he'd been attacked.

Yammy Llargo. The tenth—and zero—Espada. Incredibly weak and incredibly strong at the same time. Outside of what had happened in the original timeline, I had never interacted with him. He'd struck me as an arrogant, stupid hollow, and one that didn't recognize the strength of others. It was almost disappointing, really, after I had experienced Ulquiorra's strength.

A spike in Reiatsu nearby caught my attention and I let a small grin settle on my face. Almost done.

Yammy was in the middle of fighting a group of four Adjuchas. The less powerful hollows had the advantage of speed and intelligence if the way they coordinated attacks was anything to go by, but Yammy had them beat in sheer power. Unfortunately for the Adjuchas, power was the deciding factor in their battle. Yammy blew away two with a Cero and then punched another one so hard its flower-like mask completely shattered. The last one turned to flee, only for a Bala to catch it in the back. Yammy then moved to eat them, only for me to drop in front of him.

Because I was bored, and because Zangetsu had been begging me to do it because we hadn't done it for over a year, I had entered Resurrección. For the sake of keeping my power in check, I let my Zanpakutō disappear with the change and kept my power under a seal. I could almost imagine the Captain Commander lecturing me for such casual use of power, but when else was I going to use it? And the longer I went without using my hollow powers, the more they affected me in real life. I had noticed that I was getting twitchy lately, a fact that Zangetsu had been quick to point out.

I said nothing after my abrupt entrance—made possible with Sonido—and gave Yammy a few seconds to draw his own conclusions.

"Who the hell're you?" He asked, his voice booming over the sands. "Hey, talk, you little bug! Were you with these weaklings? Do I need to kill you too?"

I tilted my head and brought up one clawed hand. Yammy growled.

"Well, I'll just kill you too!"

In an instant, I had buried my hand in Yammy's chest. Blood erupted from his back as I drew out the limb, flowing down his front as Yammy staggered.

"Wh—what the?"

With my other hand, I reached up, grabbed him by the face, and threw him to the sand and then held him there with my foot. After flicking the blood from my hand, I began charging a cero between my horns. Yammy was too slow to react and seconds later he was nothing but dust in the wind.

Stepping out of the newly formed crater, I let my Resurrección drop and sheathed my Shikai blades on my back and waist as usual.

_Happy?_

**_"For now."_**

_Good enough. Old Man, how long until I need to be at the meeting?_

_"Twenty-three minutes."_

I groaned at the prospect of leading that meeting. "I'm not cut out for dealing with hollows. That was Kisuke's job."

_"And the Visored's."_

Scoffing, I ran a hand through my hair and then began going back to Las Noches at a slow Shunpo. "True, but only 'cause Hiyori and Mashiro were forces of nature."

I could practically sense both of my Zanpakutō spirits shuddering.

_Really?_

_"They were far worse than simple 'forces of nature'."_

**_"They were fuckin insane! Even when I beat Hiyori inta the dirt she would keep gettin up!"_**

"Her sandals hurt," I mused, remembering the number of times I had emerged from a tent only to find footwear flying toward my face. The memories made me smile slightly out of nostalgia.

All too soon, I had made it to Las Noches. It took me another few minutes to locate the meeting room—and I found it incredibly ironic that I was going to be holding a meeting about what to do about Aizen's death when he had probably been planning on using that room for something far worse.

There were going to be a lot of vacant seats.

The Espada seated at the table turned to look at me as I walked through the door. I lifted a hand, keeping a casual posture. "Yo."

"I trust that you have an explanation for the lack of other Espada," Tier said, crossing her arms under her chest and leveling me with a cool stare. Judging from the distinct lack of Nel in the room, I guessed that Tier's Fracción had returned.

"You killed them, didn't you?" Guessed Starrk, a brief frown crossing his features upon saying the words.

"I won't deny that," I said, dropping my hand back to my side and sighing. "Look. To put it simply, you guys are the strongest remaining hollows in Hueco Mundo that I know of. Hueco Mundo needs rulers; it was Baraggan before this, and Aizen after that. Now that he's dead, a new ruler needs to step in."

"If you are the one who slew Aizen and the other Espada," Ulquiorra said tonelessly, "then you inherit the throne of Hueco Mundo."

"That's a seat and responsibility that I don't want. I have my own set of things to do and ruling Hueco Mundo won't fit on that list. That's why I need you guys to figure something out."

"I've got no interest in leading anything or anyone," Starrk put in, giving me a slightly wary look, almost as though he expected me to try to force him into a position of responsibility.

"I figured as much," I said. My gaze drifted over to Tier, and she stiffened almost imperceptibly. "I was thinking that you would fit the role, Tier. You're strong both physically and mentally and you care for those ranked below you. From what I can tell you don't take anything lightly and are good at analysis. Those traits would help you as a leader, not to mention the fact that your three Fracción could help you."

Tier was silent for a few tense minutes, which I spent holding a mental debate with my Zanpakutō on whether she would accept or not. Eventually, she nodded. "I will accept that position as long as Soul Society agrees not to launch any unprovoked offenses on Las Noches and its residents."

"Sure," I said, confident that I would be able to stop anything like that should it come up.

"You're pretty confident about all this," Starrk noted, his eyes narrowing. "For a Shinigami that seemingly came here without a plan, you've been handling everything here like you know what happens next and what we're going to do before we do it. It's more than a little strange, to say the least."

"You're more perceptive than you look," I responded, no real bite to my tone. "I was planning on admitting this anyway, so it's not that big a deal." I paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm from the future."

I spent the next ten minutes explaining what had happened—not in incredible detail, admittedly—and fielding questions from Starrk and Tier. Ulquiorra posed and occasional question or comment, but it was mostly for clarification or details that I unintentionally skipped.

When it was all over, I was almost wishing for a glass of water. My throat felt sore from all the talking, old scars flaring with occasional phantom pains, and I was beginning to feel slightly weary from the strain of interacting with people my brain kept telling me were supposed to be dead and not really there.

Half the time I was still trying to convince myself that this wasn't some kind of elaborate illusion of Aizen's designed to break me utterly.

"You came back to change the course of events," Tier said, her expression unreadable. "For what purpose, exactly? You have said that you wanted to prevent war, but the more power someone has, the more they desire battle. You cannot expect us to believe that you have entirely peaceful intentions; the fact that you have already killed many of the Espada is a strong indication of that."

I scowled. "I don't want to cause any unnecessary violence. There are some things that I can't avoid so I'll deal with them as they come. The other Espada were part of that; but with Aizen and Baraggan gone one of you needs to step up and take charge of Hueco Mundo. Hollows need to know who's the strongest. Tier, as I said and as you admitted, you can handle that."

Grimmjow grumbled under his breath and looked away.

"Starrk, you're the strongest. Honestly, I don't care what you do. Same with you, Grimmjow, and you, Ulquiorra." My Reiatsu gradually settled around the room, the threat clear. "However, if you come to the world of the living with the intent to do harm, I will kill you." My voice dropped to a low growl. "And I will make it as slow as possible."

"Tch." Grimmjow stood, his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face that rivaled my own. "If that's all you wanted to say, I'm leaving. I've got better things to do than sit around and talk."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "Do what you want, Grimmjow."

The Espada was gone a moment later, and I glanced at the remaining arrancar. "Listen, I'll stop by Hueco Mundo every now and then to check up on how everything's going. If something happens that you guys don't anticipate and you want my assistance, let me know."

"Where are you headed?" Tier asked, getting to her feet.

"Back to the World of the Living. I owe Nel a favor that a friend of mine can help with."

With that, the meeting concluded. I used Shunpo to get back to where I sensed Nel, and almost groaned when I saw her being chased by a very irritated looking group of Fracción.

"C'mere, ya little brat!"

"Bwahahaha! Nel wants to pway more Eternal Tag!"

"Maybe some other time," I said, catching Nel by surprise and swinging her up and off the ground. She yelped, twisting and crawling over me until she was hooked firmly on my back.

"They're bein mean ta me, Itsygo!" Nel declared, pointing an accusing finger at Tier's Fracción.

"I'm sure they are. Where are Pesche and Dondochakka?"

"Those two idiots?" Asked Apacci, the annoyance on her face fading to be replaced by slight amusement. "We threw them out the window. Thought they'd be back now, but I guess not."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. I wasn't waiting for those two. "Okay, whatever. Did Tier tell you guys what's going on?"

"Yeah."

"Great. I'm leaving now and taking Nel with me; she'll be back in a few hours. Try not to destroy Las Noches while I'm gone."

"Yeah, Mila Rose," Sung-Sun said smugly.

"Oh, shut up!" Mila Rose snapped.

I left them to their arguing and opened a Garganta after glancing at Nel. "You'll be fine without Pesche and Dondochakka for an hour, right?"

"Nel can take care of herself!" Nel declared. Then, more quietly, she said, "but not all the time."

I smiled slightly as I stepped into the void between worlds, a steady path forming under my feet instantly. "Right. I'll get you back here soon, Nel, I promise."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Orihime's apartment back in the World of the Living. I wasn't in a gigai, so I didn't worry about anyone wondering why I had a toddler on my back. Nel was calm, looking around her with undisguised wonder, all the awe a child could feel reflected in her wide eyes. After glancing around, I raised a hand and knocked solidly on Orihime's door. The sounds of fumbling, followed closely by something heavy falling to the ground reached my ears and I raised an eyebrow. As the door opened, however, I quickly schooled my expression back to its normal scowl, though it was without its usual hostility.

Orihime stared at me, her eyes widening in surprise. "I—Ichigo! What are you doing here? Why weren't you at school today? Where have you been?"

"I had some things I needed to take care of," I replied vaguely. "Listen, I came across this hollow, and I think she needs help."

"She?" Orihime repeated, peering around me and trying to get a look at Nel. I tried to ignore how disturbing it was that Orihime naturally trusted me so much that even me saying that I had a hollow with me didn't faze her. Either that, or she had skipped over the hollow part entirely, which wouldn't surprise me.

"Yeah. May I come in? People might think you're a bit crazy for talking to thin air."

"Haha, that wouldn't be the first time!" Despite her words, Orihime gestured for me to come inside. As I took a proffered seat and sat Nel down on the ground in front of me, I saw Orihime's face slowly becoming more and more red. "Um, do you want tea? I have some ready—it's got some Tabasco sauce mixed in and—"

"I'll pass, thank you," I said, my stomach twisting at the thought of the other ingredients Orihime had no doubt mixed into her drink. "I hate to ask something like this out of the blue, but can you heal Nel?"

"Her name is Nel?" Orihime asked, kneeling in front of Nel.

"Gah!" Nel squeaked, trying to scoot away from Orihime. My hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned to face me.

"It's fine, Nel," I said softly. "She's a friend of mine. You can trust her, okay?"

Nel swallowed, and then nodded.

"You're so cute," Orihime commented, smiling brightly. She held out a hand. "My name's Orihime. What's yours?"

Nel looked at the hand for a few seconds before hesitantly shaking it. "Nel," she said.

"Let's be friends, Nel!" Orihime glanced at me. "Ichigo, what's the problem? And are you sure Nel's a hollow? She's way too nice."

"She's a hollow," I confirmed, gently tapping the cracked mask that rested on her head. "See this crack in her mask? I think it's an injury. It doesn't look right."

Orihime made a concerned noise upon noticing the crack. "Okay, I'll help. Nel, could you please stay still?"

After checking with me that everything was going to be fine, Nel nodded. Orihime gave her an encouraging smile before putting her hands to the blue hairpins that rested in her hair. "Sōten Kisshun, I reject!"

Two fairies shot out of her hairpins and rested on either side of Nel, an orange, translucent shield popping up between them. Nel stared at it, her eyes going wider and wider as her mouth opened in surprise. Orihime's eyes narrowed and she bit her lip as she concentrated on rejecting the damage to Nel's mask.

Slowly, the crack began to knit itself back together. It was incredible to watch; no matter how many times I saw it, Orihime's powers still surprised me. Coming to her had been a gamble, but it appeared to be working out.

Nel had frozen, a shocked look on her childish features.

_"You should put up a barrier to prevent Uryū or Zennosuke from sensing Nelliel's Reiatsu."_

Heeding my Zanpakutō's advice, I quickly shaped my Reiatsu into a barrier and placed it around Orihime's apartment. I was none too soon, for as soon as I did that an explosion of pink completely blinded me. Orihime yelped and I quickly caught her before she awkwardly fell backwards. She was blushing madly but muttered her thanks and recovered her balance. After checking to make sure Orihime wasn't going to fall again, I stood and looked to where I could see Nel's outline through the rapidly dissipating pink smoke.

The grown-up Nelliel looked as calm as I remembered her being the first time I had seen her. The clothing she wore barely covered her, but for some reason she seemed averse to wearing anything else no matter how much Orihime had pushed for other outfits during the war.

Nelliel blinked, looking around the room, before her eyes rested on me. Instantly, her confidant visage melted into one of pure joy and excitement. "Ichigo!"

In an instant, I had been pulled into a rather tight hug. Choking, I glanced at Orihime with a "help me" expression.

"Ah, Nel? You're choking him!" Orihime looked slightly panicked yet impressed at the same time. "Nel! Please, you're going to choke him to death!"

Nelliel paused. "Oh." She stepped back, letting me go. I coughed a few times, trying to get air back into my lungs. "I'm sorry, Ichigo! I'm just really happy that you helped me so much!"

"Ichigo," Orihime said hesitantly, "what just happened?"

Nelliel looked at Orihime, then to me, and then back to Orihime. "I'm sorry. My name is Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, former Es—"

"She's a new friend of mine," I cut in, making the executive decision that Orihime did not need to know that there were extraordinarily powerful hollows lurking in Hueco Mundo. She probably wanted to sleep that night, after all. "I met her while checking out an area where I felt a surge of weird . . . what's the word?"

"Reiatsu?" Orihime supplied, seeming to relax as I demonstrated normal behavior.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, she was alone, and injured, so I brought her here. I honestly don't know why she suddenly transformed."

"I can explain that," Nelliel said, giving me an inquisitive look. I nodded almost imperceptibly as silent confirmation that Nelliel could speak about that. "You see, when I was in Hueco Mundo, one of my allies betrayed me and caught me with a surprise attack, severely damaging my mask. The sudden release of my Reiatsu through my mask fragment forced my body to suddenly adapt and assume the form of a child, which you saw." Nelliel paused, gaining a thoughtful look. "I suppose . . . if I tried, I could probably—"

There was a pop, and suddenly Nelliel was no longer an adult. The pint-sized arrancar sat on the ground, blinking in surprise for a few seconds before she grinned. "Cool! Nel can tranthform!"

"Right," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck and releasing a slight sigh. "Orihime, I figure that Nel and I should head out. Nel, were you with anyone?"

Nel assumed an exaggerated, thoughtful pose, tapping her finger on her chin. "Um, Nel wath with Pethe and Dondochakka."

"Should you go back and meet with them?"

"Yup!" Nel jumped up, latching onto my back. "Leth go! Gogogogogo!"

"Ah, one second Nel," I grunted, adjusting the toddler on my back so that her weight wouldn't cause my sheathed sword to dig into my spine. "Thanks again, Orihime. I can't tell you how much I really appreciate this. See you tomorrow?"

"M-hm! Bye, Ichigo!"

I saw her waving as I left, making sure to go through a window instead of opening and closing the door. No reason to make Orihime's apartment look haunted to regular people. When I was far enough away—and confident that Uryū wouldn't be able to sense me opening the Garganta—I opened the rip between worlds.

"Ready, Nel?"

"Yeth!"

I smiled slightly and jumped in, making the trip in record time. The exit dumped me above the sands surrounding Las Noches. After a second of freefall that I spent searching for Pesche and Dondochakka, I disappeared with the buzz of Sonido, only to reappear where I had sensed the dysfunctional duo.

"Catch!" I called, suddenly grabbing Nel and throwing her much like a football.

'Whoa whoa hold on a se—oomph!" Pesche fell back with Nel attached to his face, disappearing in a small puff of dust.

"That was mean, don'tcha know!" Said Dondochakka. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, if you want to get me back for it, you're going to have to catch me."

"Yeth!" Nel yelled while jumping to her feet and standing squarely on Pesche's chest. "Leths play Eternal Tag!"

One puff of pink smoke later and a fully-grown Nelliel stood over Pesche. Her eyes glinted with mischief.

"That's not fair," I said, taking a few steps back. My instincts saved me a second later as Nelliel vanished with Sonido only to reappear behind me, her hand connecting with air where my back had been an instant prior.

Pesche and Dondochakka, I noticed, were freaking out in the background and looking utterly relieved—if their body posture was anything to go by—with the sudden reappearance of Nelliel's true form.

Speaking of that true form, she was attempting to tag me again. I darted away, keeping my speed low so that I could truly enjoy the game.

* * *

Legs aching from a rather intense game of Eternal Tag (in which Nelliel had _definitely_ cheated by going into Resurrección), I opened a Garganta and, after a wave good-bye to Nelliel, stepped through and made my way back to the World of the Living.

My feet hit brick the moment I exited the Garganta, and as the rip between the worlds closed I turned my face up to the sky, enjoying the feeling of the cold night air brushing against my skin. The moon's light was in stark contrast to the inky blackness that surrounded it. I stared at it for a minute, noting that it looked just as desolate as the sky in Hueco Mundo.

The stars looked oddly bight. I tried to focus on one and found that defining its edges was difficult, almost as though the night was trying to swallow it and the star's light was struggling to remain visible.

**_"Morbid, King. Very Morbid. Maybe ya shouldn't play so much eternal tag or whatever it's called."_**

I snorted under my breath. "Yeah, sure. You try telling Nel 'no'."

Zangetsu said something indistinguishable and I knew asking him to repeat his words would be a mistake. After taking a deep breath, I reached out my senses, searching for Yoruichi's Reiatsu signature. It took me a second—it seemed as though she automatically kept it suppressed, but she suddenly flared it—yet soon I sensed her approaching me at high speed.

The Flash Goddess appeared before me a moment later, a body slung over her shoulder.

"I sensed the Garganta," she said by way of explanation. "You're lucky I convinced Kisuke to take a break from his instruments for the first time in a week. He still sensed it, though, and sent me to investigate."

"Let me guess," I drawled, crossing my arms. "He knows it was me."

"Yes," Yoruichi replied. "Now get in your body; he wants to talk. Next time, don't be so haphazard with your Garganta."

"I didn't have any other way of getting here from Hueco Mundo," I muttered. Yoruichi rolled her eyes and set down the body she had been carrying so that I could enter it.

"Whatever you say, Ichigo."

I stood up, stretching and feeling several of my joints pop. Wincing, I glanced at Yoruichi. "How were you storing my body? It feels like I was stuffed in a box or something."

Yoruichi gave me a smile that could mean anything and began walking away. "Let's get going, Ichigo. Or do you want to get home late and have your father discover an empty bed in the morning?"

I winced at the thought of what he would think of that and hustled after Yoruichi, using a slower form of Shunpo that my human body could handle.

It took me five minutes to get to Kisuke's shop and the entire time I had to listen to Yoruichi telling me different ways I could have opened a Garganta that would not have tripped Kisuke's alarms. She told me that I could've played it off like a normal hollow entering Karakura and released some of my hollow Reiatsu—at a nigh-undetectable level, of course—and then "slain" that hollow by surging my non-hollow Reiatsu.

I tuned most of her words out; it wasn't as though I had expected to be able to fool Kisuke for that long anyway. The guy was a genius; I was just a soldier. Admittedly, I had been labeled a "battle genius" during the war, but there were some titles I preferred not to think about.

"Ah, Ichigo! How was Hueco Mundo?"

I looked up and saw Kisuke standing in the open doorway of his shop, a jovial smile on his face that didn't match the calculating gleam in his eyes in the slightest. I scowled at him.

"What do you want, Hat-n-Clogs? I've gotta get back home before my dad realizes that I'm still gone."

Kisuke made a noise of acknowledgement and took a few steps forward, silently closing the shop door behind him. Yoruichi moved to stand beside him and I had to stop myself from raising an eyebrow at the strange picture they painted.

"Relax, Ichigo," Kisuke said, his demeanor abruptly becoming more serious. I suppressed a sigh, knowing what was coming and wishing that I could've had some way to avoid it (though knowing Kisuke there really was no way for me to put it off forever).

I straightened, crossing my arms and letting a scowl slip onto my face. "I'm not going to relax. Say what you want to say."

Kisuke sighed, drawing his hat low over his eyes and making it impossible to make eye contact. "Well, if you're in a hurry, I'll make this quick."

He looked up, his grey eyes flashing in the moonlight as his fan snapped into place over his face. "Ever since you've come back from Soul Society, Ichigo, I've noticed several inconsistencies that just aren't adding up no matter how much time I spend thinking about them. For example," he held up a finger, "you did not achieve bankai while training with Yoruichi, despite the fact that all of my observations led me to believe that you would be perfectly capable of the feat. You displayed a level of power and speed that even Yoruichi had not expected." Here Kisuke paused and gave me a considering look. "You managed to stop Aizen, even though he was making use of Negación, and from what I gathered you managed to kill him, fight Tōsen Kaname and Gin Ichimaru at the same time and come out mostly unscathed.

"Most importantly, when you killed Aizen, the attack you used—Getsuga Tenshō—had enough power and potency to not only completely vaporize Aizen's body but also disintegrate the Hōgyoku."

_Shit._

"I tried to accomplish that same feat for nearly a century," Kisuke continued, "to no avail. You're powerful, Ichigo, and your potential for growth is admittedly quite frightening. But in all of my possible outcomes for the Soul Society invasion, defeating Aizen—" he started anew with putting up fingers, one for each item, "defeating Tōsen, convincing Gin to side with the Gotei Thirteen once more, destroying the Hōgyoku, and doing so without any lasting harm to your person or even a bankai release are . . . unexpected, to say the least.

"Now, those achievements are incredible—and suspicious—all on their own, but there's more that I've noticed that Yoruichi decided wasn't important enough to say herself."

The Goddess of Flash rolled her eyes, looking as though she was tempted to smack Kisuke upside the head.

"Your appearance—and the appearance of your Zanpakutō—have changed dramatically since I last saw you, and the time that you spent in Soul Society does not explain the sudden growth. You claimed to achieve bankai with Yoruichi and used that as an explanation for the abrupt changes but it's a flimsy reason, one that does not hold up under examination. Achieving the bankai release typically does not impact a Shinigami's appearance or the appearance of his or her Zanpakutō. Perhaps in slight ways, but nothing on the scale of turning a single-blade shikai release into a daishō pair and completely altering the appearance of that shikai. Not to mention your apparent increase in age and physical growth. Phenomena such as those cannot be explained by bankai."

Kisuke took a deep breath, snapping his fan shut. "And then there are the most recent events; soon after returning from Soul Society, you disappear for several hours, skipping school in the process. While delinquent behavior is not uncommon for you, something strange happened. Your Reiatsu completely disappeared at the same time as a Garganta opened in the location you had occupied. You were gone for several hours, and when you returned, you had a hollow with you.

"Miss Inoue's apartment was subject to another surge of hollow Reiatsu just a few minutes later."

"How do you know that?" I interjected, frowning. I had put up barriers; Kisuke should not have been able to tell what was going on in Orihime's apartment.

"I have sensors installed in your friends' rooms to prevent sudden hollow attacks without ample warning," Kisuke explained, not seeming to care about the obvious invasion of privacy. At least it was just Reiatsu sensors and not cameras.

"Anyway, you disappeared again, presumably through another Garganta. Some time later, you emerged once more in the location you had originally left from this morning. I had Yoruichi move to intercept you. The question is, what could a substitute Shinigami like you possibly need in Hueco Mundo, and what would you be doing with a hollow? And how would you be capable of opening and closing Garganta with such frequency?"

Kisuke tipped his hat back up and stared me straight in the eyes with surprising intensity to his gaze. "I have spent a long time attempting to come up with theories that would satisfy the sudden changes in your personality, behavior, and abilities. With your actions today, however, I am only left with two options."

He held up one finger. "One: I'm going insane."

He held up another finger. "Two: You're from an alternate or future timeline."

He closed his eyes, lowering his hand back to his side as he let the silence reign for a few minutes. I was content to let it stay quiet.

"The first option would not surprise me," Kisuke said quietly, his voice full of self-deprecating mirth that seemed almost forced, "but I trust that Yoruichi would let me know if it were true."

"It might be," Yoruichi commented dryly. "After all, you spend so much time with your machines and plans and machinations that I'm surprised you can think straight at all."

Kisuke continued as though Yoruichi had never spoken. "The second possibility possesses so many variables and simple conjecture that it is more of a guess than a theory.

"However, I'm convinced that those two are my only options. So, Ichigo." He opened his eyes again and stared at me with a desire for knowledge that I could never hope to match. "Am I losing my mind, or are you from the future?"

The words hung in the air, challenging, waiting for my response. I let them hang for a minute, mulling my words over in my head before I even thought about opening my mouth. Finally, I sighed, uncrossing my arms and letting them hang loosely by my sides while weariness settled over me.

"Yeah," I said, my words quiet yet easily audible. "Yeah, I'm from the future." I blew out a breath, straightening and banishing the heaviness that had overcome me for a moment. "That's all I'm willing to say. If you let anyone else know without my permission . . . actually, please don't make me finish that threat." I turned away, letting out a yawn as I did so. My mind was not tired, but my human body clearly was.

"Ichigo!" I hardly paused as Kisuke's voice reached my ears. "If you ever need anything—"

"I'll let you know, I got it. Good night, Hat-n-Clogs!"

Yoruichi strolled up beside me as I made my way back to my house. "You do realize that he won't give up on learning more, right?" She asked, her gaze fixed firmly on the moon shining overhead. I spared her a glance before following her line of sight.

"I know, Yoruichi." The weariness was back in my tone. "I know."

* * *

_A/N Some of you were probably expecting more from the now-deceased Espada. Sorry, but Ichigo is extraordinarily strong and he can't risk any of them surviving for long enough to cause trouble and/or raise an alarm (save the mad scientist; Ichigo drew that one out intentionally)._

_Review Responses:_

_jcampbellohten: I really don't like Nnoitra. Killing him like that was somewhat satisfying._

_clw123cat: *sighs*_

_sagar hussain: The Quincy arc won't come in for a while, if ever. I'm lazy and that arc is a can of worms best left untouched until it's finished._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed; reading your feedback is always entertaining and some of you even remind me about things that I tend to forget while writing!_

_As always, just check my profile for updates/news about my stories. The next chapter should be out in a little over a month._

_Until next time,_

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	8. Chapter 8

_When did this story get over 50,000 words? Also, my brain is coming out of my ears. AP Tests are so damn stressful, though thankfully it's over with now._

_**Here is a quick summary of the story so far**, as prompted of me by QueenKarin13: Post-Winter-War Ichigo travels back in time (no, he did not fight the Quincy, though he does know at least something about them), and arrived right in the middle of bankai training with Yoruichi. Mayhem ensued, and he managed to successfully save Rukia and kick Aizen's ass (killing him) in the process. The Gotei 13 was suspicious as hell, but Ichigo played dumb and fooled them like the little genius he apparently is. He then went to Hueco Mundo and killed off a fair number of the Espadas, leaving only the first, third, fourth, sixth, and former third Espadas. He left Tier Harribel in charge of Hueco Mundo, got Nel healed by Orihime, and was confronted by Kisuke upon his return to the World of the Living. As a result, there are only two people that know Ichigo is from the future: Yoruichi and Kisuke._

_Well, that was a fun little refresher. Enjoy the new chapter while I go cry in the corner over the fact that I still have to deal with final exams._

* * *

Chapter 8

Stopping myself from rolling my eyes when Zennosuke—easily distinguishable from any other Shinigami because of his huge afro—was going on a tangent about how my status as a substitute Shinigami wasn't valid or recognized by Soul Society and that I was not supposed to be there and various other completely boring things was proving to be a task that I was not ready for.

Giving up on maintaining my patience, I let out a huge sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Both actions released some of my pent-up frustration but my level of exasperation remained constant. "Look, whatever your name is—"

"Zennosuke Kurumadani!"

"Whatever. Just trust me on the substitute Shinigami thing. If it really bugs you that much that I'm better at your job than you are—"

"You're not nearly as elite as I am!"

"_If it bugs you that much_," I repeated, one eyebrow now twitching, "then contact your superiors and ask them, okay? I've got better things to do with my time than listen to you rant on and on about . . . well, whatever it was that you were ranting about. I really don't care."

The Shinigami before me opened his mouth to protest (_again_) only to stop as my attention left him. In one smooth motion I drew my cleaver and brought it up just in time to block a strike from a certain blond-haired exchange student that had joined my class earlier that day.

Seeing Shinji had hurt. The guy's at-the-gallows sense of humor was like no other and we had become close by the time Aizen took his head off. He'd been loyal, hard working, and willing to do anything it took to stop Aizen on his warpath. Sakanade had been invaluable for taking down the more powerful hollows that Aizen had in reserve. Plus, we'd become something more than friends during the fighting; when we went into battle, the other guys always came out far worse for wear.

Shinji understood me in ways that Kisuke, Goat-Face, Rukia, and everyone else couldn't. He was my closest ally and I trusted him with my life. He died protecting the other Visored (what was left of them), but he went down smiling.

Vaguely, I was aware of Zennosuke getting blown off the roof he'd been standing on from the force of Shinji's attack. Served him right; he was too full of himself anyway.

Well, time for some acting.

"Who the hell are you?" I growled, pushing Shinji back. A brief flare of surprise burned in his eyes for a moment before that usual Cheshire grin and twinkle of amusement covered it up.

"Shhh, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, putting a finger to his lips almost mockingly. "Those with Reiatsu like yours need to learn how to stay calm. Otherwise, your presence will be felt by things you don't like."

I scowled, adjusting my stance and reigning in my Reiatsu somewhat. "You didn't tell me your name." I tried to ignore the openings of several Garganta around Karakura or the Reiatsu of _Grand_ fucking _Fisher_ by Kon (like I couldn't tell that he was running around in my body, the little pervert). "Tell me who you really are, Shinji Hirako!"

He rolled his eyes, casually resting his Zanpakutō over one shoulder. "Really? With all that's going on, you choose to focus on me." He sighed, bringing up one hand. "Well then, take a good look."

Reishi rapidly accumulated in his hand to form a hollow mask reminiscent of a pharaoh, with a hood-like feature on the back. He tilted it to the side, revealing most of his face and the grin that still rested upon it.

"Well?" He said, grinning wider. "What do you see? Take a good guess."

"A hollow mask," I answered, narrowing my eyes.

"Good." Shinji held up his Zanpakutō. "A Zanpakutō and a hollow mask. Get it now? I'm a Shinigami that has crossed over into the realm of hollows. You remember what I told you earlier, riiiight?" He drew out the last word with an almost mocking air.

_"I hope we can be friends," Shinji said, sitting down beside me and looking completely at odds with the school and students around him._

"You see," Shinji continued, "I'm a Visored. You're one of us, Ichigo; you do not belong with them." His voice became slightly more urgent, but only barely. "You have got to know that you do not belong with them at all."

"That's great," I said flatly. "Whatever club it is that you're pitching for, I'm not interested."

I suddenly froze, pretending that I had just sensed Grand Fisher and my father's Reiatsu. "The hell? Is that a hollow?"

Shinji shot me a somewhat confused look, as though surprised that my Reiatsu-sensing capabilities appeared to be _that_ bad. Before he could say anything, however, I began running in the direction of the hollow and my father, only to be stopped by Shinji. "Hey, you'd better get back here right now! Didn't you hear what I said?"

"No thanks!" I called over my shoulder as though he was some kind of annoying salesperson. I knew it would only tick him off more.

"I'm not done talking to you yet!"

"Look," I snapped, turning around and facing the Visored once more. "Yeah, I heard you and I'm not interested in anything you have to say! I don't want to join your stupid club and—" it almost hurt to say it—"I don't want to be your friend. So why don't you and whatever Visored organization you run get the hell out of my town!" Shinji stared me down for a few seconds and my scowl deepened. I pointed my blade at him, though the challenge inherent in the action was not for a fight. "I'm a Shinigami, you got that? I'm not one of _you_."

This time, Shinji let me leave without saying anything else.

Hopefully, I had delayed long enough for my father to finish whatever business he had with Grand Fisher. He deserved to get revenge on the hollow for killing his wife; I had already had a go at it before. Still, the very existence of the hollow grated on my nerves.

* * *

Warehouses stretched on around me in neat rows offset by the crumbling state of most of the buildings. The street I was walking on was cracked and warped with plants poking up between some of the cracks, and the warehouses themselves were not in much better condition. I was almost expecting some of them to come crashing to the ground the moment a stronger breeze blew.

As it were, I kept walking, my footsteps the only real noise besides the rustling of leaves. The thin navy jacket and jeans I wore were more than enough for the slightly chillier temperatures and with the sun beating down on the almost cloudless day I half-wished that I could find some other, better way of spending my time.

_"You need to do this. It's best to get it out of the way."_

**_"Hurry up, King! I'm gettin anxious waitin!"_**

"Patience is a virtue," I muttered, pausing and turning to face a particular warehouse. I could practically feel Zangetsu rolling his eyes at me.

The large door was opened just enough for me to walk through and it shut behind me with the creaking of rusted metal followed by a bang as it hit the floor. Lights burned to life from the ceiling, illuminating the three cracked and broken floors of the warehouse and the eight figures positioned on them, with the familiar smiling figure of Shinji Hirako standing at the center.

"Good job finding this place, Ichigo," he said, still grinning just the same as he had been when I'd first met him. "I wonder what that means . . . wait, could it mean that you've finally decided to join us?" He paused and jumped to a different tact, probably seeing the way my eyes narrowed. "Honestly, I'm sorta impressed you found our hideout. Not ta put you down, but it is a surprise considering how much you usually suck at detecting Reiatsu. Bottom line is, I figured you'd come here eventually. To make things easier for you we all got together and pumped out as much Reiatsu as we could just ta make this place easier ta find. I guess it must've worked.

"The fact that you're here convinces me that you've finally decided to come over to _our_ side. Am I right?"

I made eye contact with Shinji for the first time since I had walked in and spoke two words with utter vehemence. "Bite me."

Shinji jumped in surprise, a shocked expression plastered on his face. The other Visored mostly mirrored his expression.

_Time to throw the past out the window._

"Can it, Shinji," I continued, rolling my eyes. "Honestly, this 'masked army' crap is just weird. The whole 'us versus them' attitude is understandable but you make this place seem like some kind of lame after-school club. It's stupid."

Now the rest of the Visored were looking at least slightly confused on top of indignant. Good. That meant my words were making an impact.

"I mean, seriously," I continued, spinning on Hiyori. "How the hell can you expect _Shinji_ of all people to be able to convince me to come here without using violence? I came here out of my own volition; Shinji had nothing to do with it. From what I can tell he's _way_ to easygoing to do much more than laze around and irritate the hell out of you just for the fun of it. Plus, _you're_ so bad at stealth that Orihime and Chad—without even going too far out of their way—could see you two chatting it up about me _in the open_!

"But that's beside the point. Really, I came here for one reason." With ease, I separated from my body and gently lowered it to the ground, putting a silent barrier over it to make sure that it wouldn't be hit by collateral. The Visored all tensed, their expressions of confusion quickly being replaced by expressions of wariness and suspicion. "After all, _someone_ has to help you lot understand, and apparently, that guy is me." I couldn't help the bitterness that crept into my tone with the last sentence.

_Zangetsu._

"Now, who wants to meet my inner hollow? He's pretty eager to talk to you." I grinned and mentally stepped back, ceding control to Zangetsu and almost laughing at the gobsmacked expression on Shinji's face.

Zangetsu immediately had to jump back as Kensei's fist smashed into the ground where he had been standing, only to dive to one side as Love followed up with a right hook. Zangetsu vanished using Sonido, reappearing on the opposite side of the room and cracking his neck with a sound that echoed around the empty warehouse.

**"Damn," **he muttered. **"Not even lettin me talk? That's just mean. Mean-mean-mean-mean-mean."**

Zangetsu could hear Hacchi muttering, "What is this?" to Rose, who looked just as bewildered.

My inner hollow danced out of the way of another strike from Kensei that subsequently left a crater in the floor. He let out a laugh, Flash-Stepping to the panel in the floor of the warehouse. After forcing the attacking Visored back with a wide slash with his cleaver, Zangetsu ripped open the opening and ignored the way the concrete nearly cracked and broke from the force he used.

**"Let's take this downstairs!"** He shouted, dodging a potent Hadō number four: Byakurai from Shinji.

I watched with amusement as Zangetsu began to fend off the Visored, breaking barriers and other Kidō from Hacchi or disrupting their formation before Hacchi could finish preparing them. Kensei had already released his shikai after a cero from Zangetsu nearly took out the right side of his body (all Zangetsu had done to apologize to me was shrug as though nearly killing a potential ally was just something that _happened_) and now Zangetsu occasionally twisted in uncomfortable positions to avoid nearly invisible blasts of air that were only detectable via their Reiatsu.

**"Ya gotta be faster than that, Mashiro!" **Zangetsu taunted, leaping out of the way of a Mashiro Kick that passed less than half a meter from his face. The shockwave the attack created set his hair swaying and knocked him back in the air. Zangetsu twisted in mid air to avoid a slash from Hiyori's Zanpakutō and blocked her follow-kick, finishing the movement by grabbing her foot, spinning her around, and throwing her at a startled Shinji. The blond man managed to duck out of the way in time, but only barely.

**"Seriously," **Zangetsu called, using Sonido again to get farther away before he hit the ground. **"We can talk about this, you idiots!"**

"Quiet, hollow! You're the one taunting us!" Lisa snapped, flash-stepping behind Zangetsu, her Zanpakutō already in motion. Zangetsu scoffed, catching the blade on his cleaver and pushing Lisa back with enough force to send her flying. He then ducked a slash from Rose and kicked Love (who had been trying to get Zangetsu from the side) back to get some time.

Using the new space, Zangetsu focused on Rose, quickly overwhelming the former captain and giving him several cuts before I reminded him that he was supposed to be trying to calm the Visored down and _not_ riling them up.

**"Che."**

Zangetsu kicked Rose away and did a flip over Kensei, landing on his feet and smiling. **"Really, I could do this all day! Hell, I could do this for weeks! I'm stronger than all of you idiots combined, if you haven't figured that out yet! Fortunately for you, King doesn't want me to do that, so if you wouldn't mind _listening_ to me between your attacks that would be absolutely fucking fantastic!"**

I knew Zangetsu wanted to say more but he was interrupted when a golden whip suddenly flew at him from the side. Cursing, Zangetsu jumped above it only to push off a quickly made platform of Reishi when the whip abruptly changed direction to follow him. The golden flower at the end of it gleamed with deadly intent, and as it moved I realized that I could hear the soft sound of a piano being played.

_Rose. He must have released his Shikai while Kensei distracted us and you monologued._

**_"I don't monologue, dammit!"_**

I mentally rolled my eyes and let Zangetsu focus on fighting the Visored who still appeared to be stuck on the idea that they could actually defeat Zangetsu.

**"Let's have some fun!" **Zangetsu called, deflecting the whip and then effortlessly weaving around simultaneous attacks from Hiyori, Kensei, and Mashiro. He scowled, pushing the green-haired woman away and then blasting Kensei and Hiyori back with a Getsuga Tenshō. **_"Later," _**he growled at me, almost as an afterthought and probably only because he felt my slight surge of reproach.

"Now why would we wait," Shinji drawled, "when you've gone to all this trouble just to find and fight us? Especially since Ichigo doesn't stand a chance of suppressing you if you're _truly_ this strong."

Zangetsu bristled at Shinji's tone. **"And how the hell would I fake being this strong? Plus, are you deaf or did you miss what King and I have been saying? You've had to have noticed the way things aren't quite adding up right, unless you're all dumber than I remember."**

Shinji's eyes narrowed and he exchanged a glance with Hiyori, who scoffed. A silent message passed through the entre group of Visored and I could feel Zangetsu's urge to physically beat some sense into them rising like an unstoppable tide. At this point, I was considering letting him do just that; after all, from what I knew of the Visored's personalities, it wouldn't affect my future relationship with their group that much. Hiyori would resent me for the next century, but that wouldn't really change her normal behavior.

**"Ah, shit," **was all Zangetsu had time to say before the Visored all attacked him at once, with Hacchi setting up barriers and occasionally attempting to hit Zangetsu with Hadō or Bakudō when the opportunity presented itself. Zangetsu quickly realized that he couldn't fight all the Visored at once (especially ones that had trained together for so long) without being overwhelmed, so he did the only logical thing given the situation.

He released the seal.

As the black crescent moon that sealed my power faded from my chest, power exploded around me as Zangetsu briefly flared his Reiatsu, causing a wave of red-rimmed black Reiatsu to surge out from him and completely flatten the rocky floor within the immediate vicinity. The Visored all flinched, strain on their faces as they adjusted to the new thickness of the atmosphere. They managed it pretty quickly, I noted. It was impressive.

The sudden boost in power and speed allowed Zangetsu to leap out of the way of a powerful Mashiro Kick and then weave through a series of thrusts, swipes and jabs from Love, Rose, and Lisa. He then deflected a strike from Shinji while using one foot to kick away Kensei's hunting knife and simultaneously prevent Kensei from aiming an air blast at him.

**"You people are about as willing to listen as the old man," **Zangetsu grumbled, disengaging from the group and leaping back to give himself some time to come up with a counter-strategy. Then he rolled his eyes and I could tell that he was already giving up on a counter-strategy. There was no point; as long as he didn't aim to permanently injure or kill, everything would (probably) work out. Zangetsu grinned, cracking his neck. **"That's not a good thing!" **He suddenly shouted, releasing a powerful Getsuga Tenshō and drawing his trench knife.

The Visored avoided the attack and Zangetsu's grin widened as a barrier followed quickly by a Bakudō number 61: Rikujōkōrō stopped him in his tracks, but the hollow rapidly destroyed the restraints by breaking them down with Reiatsu, just in time to avoid being trapped in Rose's Zanpakutō. The light of the broken Rikujōkōrō glittered in the artificial light of the underground training area as Zangetsu darted through the air, fending off the Visored with every step he took.

He then had to leap into the air and stay there on a platform of Reishi as a crimson cero completely decimated the area in which he had just been standing. Some distance away, the mouth of Hiyori's hollow mask closed and her eyes met Zangetsu's. A brief contest of wills took place until an impact from behind knocked Zangetsu to the ground. He rolled with his momentum and came up on his feet, his smile dimming somewhat upon realizing that he'd been hit.

Kensei shook out his fist, his expression even more serious and disapproving than normal.

Zangetsu was already mentally flipping me off before I could open my mouth to chastise him. Instant Regeneration was working on the injury, healing it in a moment. The strike had been strong, but it had barely done anything at all because of Zangetsu's Hierro.

"Not bad, Kensei," Love commented, adjusting his Zanpakutō. Zangetsu gave him a scathing look.

**"Not bad? You won't even release your Zanpakutō and Kensei's the only one of you idiots that actually managed to touch me. Why don't you release shikai?"**

"It isn't really designed for indoors," Love said easily. I could kind of understand why; swinging that massive club around would probably destroy the training area and force Love to have to clean it up, something that didn't seem to sit well with his character. "Now, would you mind calming down?"

Zangetsu rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, avoiding an air blast from Kensei that likely would have shattered the mask almost completely formed over his face.

**"I'm perfectly calm. You lot are the ones that need to calm the fuck down."**

"Quiet, idiot!" Hiyori snapped, her released Zanpakutō cutting through the air on a path directly to Zangetsu's face. Zangetsu grinned, his calmness disappearing in that instant as he brought up his cleaver to block, sparks flying in the air as metal fought against metal, and then kicked Hiyori in the stomach, causing her to momentarily choke. She only slid back a few meters, however, and recovered quickly.

Zangetsu found himself deflecting and countering strikes as Hiyori unleashed a frustration-fueled barrage of attacks. The task of not getting eviscerated was made even harder by the timely intervention of the other Visored when Zangetsu was just about to take advantage of a hole in Hiyori's guard. The hollow grew steadily more annoyed with each passing second and I couldn't help the grin that was forming on my face.

_"Having fun?"_ I mentally called, repressing a snicker as Zangetsu practically growled back at me. I sighed, drawing my mirth back in favor of focusing. _"Seriously, though. You need to get them to talk."_

**_"And you couldn't've done this?" _**Zangetsu fired back, dancing out of the way of another one of Hiyori's Ceros, only to have to duck as a strong Bakudō shot over his head in the space his heart had been a second earlier.

_"Sorry," _I shot back, _"but I recall that a certain hollow was chafing for some action recently."_

**_"Ya could've told me that it would've been about _****talking_! And these bastards would've trusted ya more anyway! They're just gonna keep attacking me!"_**

_"No, I think you've got it handled. Keep it up, you're almost going somewhere."_

**_"Fuck you, King!"_**

There was no real venom in his tone and I knew that Zangetsu was actually enjoying the chance to stretch his muscles against a group that—while not a real danger to him—provided a challenge.

Zangetsu ducked another swipe from Hiyori and then twisted out of the way of a strike from Rose, letting loose a Getsuga Tenshō with his cleaver to distract Hacchi and then letting the blade out of his grip while holding onto the cloth on the hilt. The black blade flew through the air, knocking back Lisa into Kensei. Love tried to take advantage of the opening but he received a kick to the abdomen for his efforts. Zangetsu finished the motion and turned, only to find that he was now facing Shinji.

**"Shit," **the hollow muttered, already bringing his blades around even though he knew things were about to get complicated. Behind him, Hiyori had recovered and was charging another cero (her cero abilities were impressive, even though Zangetsu hated to admit it), which Shinji couldn't see because Zangetsu was standing in the way. The other Visored were still reeling from Zangetsu's latest series of attacks and Hacchi was preoccupied with the Getsuga Tenshō, meaning that he couldn't put up a barrier in front of Shinji. Zangetsu cursed again before glancing at the leader of the Visored. **"Move it, dumbass!" **

Shinji's expression filled with shock at the moment when Hiyori fired the cero.

Zangetsu's world turned bright red as he turned away from Shinji and held up his blades in a block. The energy of the cero raged against the Zanpakutō and Zangetsu put all his focus into stopping the entirety of the attack, not just the portion that would have hit him. He grinned, relishing in the chaos that fueled the destructive beam before finally overwhelming the attack with his Reiatsu and dispersing it. Zangetsu then cracked his back, grinning at the shocked Hiyori.

**"You should be more careful, brat," **he lectured, his grin becoming decidedly more bloodthirsty. **"You were aiming for Shinji there."**

Zangetsu could sense Shinji's faked hurt even without looking at him. "What were you thinking, Hiyori!" Shinji called, actual reproach hidden in his lighthearted tone. It didn't matter that the former captain could have easily dodged or weathered the attack; mistakes on a battlefield at the wrong moment could be fatal. Shinji then turned to Zangetsu, his expression sobering in an instant. "And on a more serious note, what were _you_ thinking? You could've avoided that easily, yet you blocked it. Why?"

This time, Zangetsu did turn slightly to look at Shinji, rolling his eyes as he did so. The action was clearly visible even with the mask that covered my face and I saw Shinji instinctively bristle at the obvious mocking tone Zangetsu was emitting. **"Idiot."**

"H—Hey! Don't call me an idiot!"

Zangetsu faced Shinji fully. **"I-di-ot."**

The other Visored watched with various expressions of incredulity as Zangetsu managed to fluster Shinji, a feat usually reserved for Hiyori.

_Brilliant. Get him mad; that should help. Anyway, you can't fight them forever, Zangetsu, or you're going to end up screwing up at some point._

My Zanpakutō spirit's surge of impatience was reflected in a bright comet that streaked across the night sky in my inner world.

**_"Yeah, yeah. You're just jealous that you don't get to fight!"_**

I sighed, knowing that my time with the calmer half of Zangetsu was, at least for the moment, up. He needed to focus on getting the Visored to understand the situation now, and he probably wasn't interested in me providing commentary in the background.

_Even though commentary is something he used to do all the time, _I thought dryly.

**"You're all idiots," **Zangetsu continued aloud, pointing at the rest of the Visored with the tip of his trench blade. They stiffened, but the bruises from Zangetsu's recent attacks convinced them to remain still for the time being. **"All of you. Every. Single. One." **Zangetsu finished with his blade pointing back at Shinji, at which point he propped it on his shoulder. **"I come out here wanting to talk and all I get is attack after attack after attack and though that was _fun_—" **a grin stretched across his face, **"but I've got more important things I apparently need to be doing, like telling you lot exactly why Ichigo seems to know more about you than a sixteen-year-old teenage boy should."**

"Tch. We're not listening to some stupid hollow like you!" Shouted Hiyori. "Now put that stupid strawberry back in control or I'll—"

"You'll what, shrimp?" I asked, letting the mask on my face shatter and sealing my power once again. Zangetsu and I had switched control so swiftly that none of the Visored had noticed it happen immediately. "Beat me up? You couldn't even touch me."

The Visored had frozen. "Ichigo?" Lisa said, her surprise obvious. "But your hollow was in control. You have a strong will but it wouldn't be enough to push aside an inner hollow of that strength."

I frowned, glancing at the cleaver blade gripped in my right hand. "Maybe, maybe not. But you're missing something pretty big." My gaze met Shinji's while I sheathed my weapons. "I hope you noticed, Shinji, or I'm going to be very disappointed."

Shinji only hesitated a moment before speaking, his words slow and measured and his smile nowhere in sight. "When your hollow took control, there was no struggle evident in your Reiatsu. Not even when you—your hollow, whichever—were fighting us. The same was true a minute ago; you two don't seem to be _fighting_ for control." He frowned. "If anything, you appear to be working together."

I began to clap slowly, the sound harsh and mocking even in the large space. "Hey, look. You got it. I was starting to worry that you never would, Shinji."

"Stupid strawberry, the hell're you talking about?" Hiyori snapped, looking moments away from throwing a sandal. Her confusion over my sudden return was probably the only reason I hadn't suffered for my earlier "shrimp" comment. Because I valued my face, I decided to explain before Hiyori's rather limited patience ran out. At least she no longer had her mask; I did not want to deal with her cero.

"Fine, fine. Calm down, Hiyori, or I won't explain." I glanced at Shinji. "No interruptions."

He held up his hands, Zanpakutō gripped loosely. "Whatever you say, kid. I gotta admit, you've got my interest."

I smirked. "I've had your interest for some time now; don't even try to pretend otherwise." Shinji made to speak but I bulldozed over him, my voice easily carrying to the rest of the Visored. "About seven years ago, I lost my mother to the hollow known as Grand Fisher. The event was orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen in an attempt to motivate me to grow stronger physically and mentally. It succeeded.

"A little less than a year ago, Rukia Kuchiki of the Thirteenth Division received the assignment to patrol Karakura Town; while completing this assignment, she ran into me. In order to save my family and myself from a hollow, she gave me her powers. After several weeks of working together, Captain Byakuya Kuchiki and Lieutenant Renji Abarai of the Sixth Division came to recover her from the World of the Living since she had stayed here for too long. I tried to save her and failed, causing her to be placed under the order for execution.

"Kisuke Urahara found me and saved me from bleeding out, and later helped me to recover my Shinigami powers by using the technique he calls Shattered Shaft. During this process, I gained an Inner Hollow."

The Visored stiffened, and a tight, almost bitter smile twisted my lips. "At the time I was largely unaware of this development and continued on to Soul Society despite not knowing the entirety of the risks, even dragging Uryū Ishida, Sado—Chad—Yasutora, and Orihime Inoue along with me. In the end, we succeeded in rescuing Rukia, but at the same time we set the stage for Aizen's public betrayal of the Shinigami."

The mere mention of the traitor was enough to make most of the Visored scowl.

"In that Soul Society," I continued, "Sōsuke Aizen did not die."

The Visored stiffened.

"In that Soul Society, in that timeline, Sōsuke Aizen lived for eight more years at the expense of over a million innocent souls, a million hollows, and hundreds—even thousands—of Shinigami. He took my friends, my family, and my human life from me and left the Gotei Thirteen in shambles."

I continued to speak, elaborating on just what Aizen had done, only to abruptly pause. "In this Soul Society, however, in this timeline—Aizen did die, by my hand, again. This time, the death toll was minimal, the losses to the Gotei Thirteen negligible. Anyone care to guess what I'm trying to say?"

Unsurprisingly, it was Shinji who spoke first, his smile gone and his gaze sharp. "You're sayin you're from the future."

"You're right about that," I confirmed. "And before you think about anything else, remember that if—when—you fight Zangetsu again. He wasn't happy about being constantly interrupted while trying to speak."

"Hold on," Kensei said. "We were fighting your inner hollow. Zangetsu is your Zanpakutō."

"Yes, he is."

Silence reigned while the group of Visords before me absorbed those words and their implications.

"That . . . explains a lot," Lisa said eventually. "His hollow seemed abnormally intelligent and used his Zanpakutō with a level of familiarity that was unexpected, even for an inner hollow."

"So Berry Boy has a dual Zanpakutō?" Asked Mashiro, her eyes wide. "That's so cool! Only . . . um . . . their names were . . . uh—"

"Captains Kyōraku and Ukitake were the only dual-bladed Zanpakutō wielders I knew of in Soul Society," Love put in. "If those two are the ones you were thinking of."

"Don't call me Berry Boy," I muttered under my breath. "Or Carrot-Top. Or any other stupid nickname."

**_"She ain't gonna listen."_**

The green-haired Visored nodded emphatically. "Yup! Thanks, Love!"

What ensued was a very one-sided question-and-answer session in which I strove to give the shortest, least informative, and simplest answers possible. Mashiro proved to be the most vocal, with Hiyori following in a close second (what she lacked in questions she made up for in volume and demanding tones). Love and Rose seemed content to sit back and listen for the most part while Lisa occasionally asked a pointed or seemingly obvious question that the others missed.

Shinji watched me carefully the entire time, his more youthful persona (which he had probably adapted in order to recruit me more easily) fading with each passing second. He saw my every movement; the way my shoulders tensed or my breath hitched, the way I looked away or glared, the way my voice sometimes strayed from my usual monotone. I knew that nothing I did would slip past his notice; for all the airs Shinji put on, he had a deceptively quick mind that—while not genius level like Aizen—was still incredibly sharp.

Hiyori looked half-ready to explode. Her right eye was twitching (as was her right hand, which worried me far more) and she appeared to be debating between bisecting me vertically or horizontally. Considering her Zanpakutō's appearance, I didn't think for a second that she would have difficulty (if, of course, you ignored my Hierro, Blut Vene, and natural resistance to injury courtesy of my Reiatsu). She listened, however, and even offered some of her own questions even though they tended to be delivered in a rather angry or belligerent tone.

"This is all well and good, Ichigo," Shinji said after almost half an hour of talking, "but what's been buggin me is, why were ya acting so . . . normally the past few days? There was no sign of _this_." He made a general gesture in my direction to clarify his last word.

"'Acting' is the right word," I said, adjusting the seat I had taken some time back on a convenient rock. Subtly, I focused my Reiatsu and managed to break the hard surface just enough to get rid of a pointy bit that had been sticking into my thigh. Being incredibly powerful had its perks. "I remembered mostly what I had done with you the first time around so I just did it again."

"From memory?" Kensei asked, one eyebrow going up.

"Yeah. From memory."

Love let out a low whistle from the background. "That's impressive, Ichigo."

"Thanks. I had to do the same in Soul Society so it wasn't that big of a deal."

"Speaking of Soul Society," Shinji said while tilting his head to one side. "What exactly happened with Aizen? I have to say I'm rather . . . interested in how he met his end. Kisuke and Yoruichi only provided so many bare, boring details that missed the real icing on the cake." His face became slightly more serious. "By the way, I'm not going to say that I'm not disappointed that it wasn't me that killed him."

I blinked. "What?"

Shinji sighed. "Never mind. Just tell us what happened."

"I don't really know what you expect me to say."

"Describe what happened," Kensei suggested, though his tone did not make it sound like mere advice. After adjusting my position again, I brought the memories to the front of my mind.

"Well, I was a the top of Sōkyoku hill with the captains and lieutenants and the Head Captain and Yoruichi and Kūkaku—"

"Who?" Hiyori interrupted, scowling. I gave her a halfhearted glare.

"Kūkaku Shiba. Next time, let me finish talking. Anyway, Yoruichi and Suì-Fēng had their weapons at Aizen's throat and Gin and Tōsen were being kept busy. Then a Garganta opened—"

"Inside the barrier?"

"Yeah." I didn't even care to identify who had asked the question. "The Garganta opened and a bunch of Menos Grande were inside. Aizen used their recovery technique—Negación—to rescue himself and his subordinates. While they were slowly rising, I healed myself from the injuries Aizen and Byakuya had inflicted on me earlier and attacked the Menos Grande in the Garganta, killing them and closing the Garganta as well as shutting down the Caja Negación technique. Most of the Gotei Thirteen was still in shock from everything that had happened so I was able to appear in front of Aizen, paralyze him with my Reiatsu, and then incinerate him with an extremely potent Getsuga Tenshō."

Silence settled over the underground training area once more while the Visored digested my words.

"I believe," Hacchi said after a few minutes, "that killing Aizen is the greatest proof Ichigo can give of his past in the future." The large man paused, probably realizing that his last few words didn't necessarily make sense. His face turned slightly red but Shinji saved him from any further embarrassment.

"Right. Ichigo, not to put my own moral character down or anything, but why did you tell us your secret?"

I decided to be blunt. "I'm probably going to need you as allies in the future, not to mention the fact that I was fairly close with most of you during the war. Plus, Kisuke and Yoruichi already know and you would sense something was wrong while I would be pretending to fight my inner hollow since I'm not willing to release my fully hollowfied state."

"Why is that?" Kensei asked. I turned a baleful look on him and spoke in a flat monotone.

"Because its Reiatsu alone would've destroyed the warehouse and this training ground, not to mention all of Hacchi's barriers."

"Tch. Yeah right. You're just trying to make yourself look better, Carrot-Top." Hiyori scowled harder. "Idiot."

"To be fair," Shinji put in, "he was able to hold all of us off at once."

"But that was his inner hollow," said Rose.

I rolled my eyes. "Zangetsu is my Zanpakutō. Our power is one and the same and it's sealed right now. It wasn't for the second half of the fight, though, mostly because Zangetsu was a needy little inner hollow."

The word Zangetsu spat at me could have curdled milk.

"Sealed?" Hacchi repeated. I nodded, pulling aside my Shihakushō and revealing the small crescent over my heart. Hacchi gave it an appraising look. "That is impressive work," he admitted. "It appears to seal even more than the Gentei Reiin. Possibly . . . " He made eye contact with me for a brief moment, "ninety percent?"

"About there," I said. "It varies every time I reseal my power."

"You did it yourself?" Love looked grudgingly impressed.

"Yeah. Took some practice. At first I couldn't seal more than five percent."

"How long did it take you to learn?"

"About a month."

"I've known ya for less than a week," Shinji said under his breath, "and I'm already learning not to be surprised by stuff like that."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said.

* * *

Shinji and I sat apart from the rest of the Visored as we finished our dinners. The leader of the ragtag group had wordlessly gestured for me to join him and I was in no position to turn him down.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked after I was sure that Shinji was finished. He gave me a long, appraising look, drawing out the uncomfortable silence (though, in reality, it wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest). Sakanade lay next to him, sheathed in the sheath that Shinji somehow never lost no matter what battlefield he threw it on. I had been impressed with his ability to recover it time and time again even in the most arduous circumstances. After a minute, Shinji looked away, choosing to focus on Kensei as the muscular man practiced his punches against a punching bag that looked moments away from breaking. Mashiro flitted around him, a nonstop stream of words flowing from her mouth.

"I figured it wouldn't hurt to talk with the newest member of our group," Shinji replied. "And I want to know what ya meant when ya said that ya might need us to be your allies in the future. We don't throw our loyalties around so easily anymore." His words were tinged with long-suppressed bitterness.

"I get that. Trust me, I do. But there are conflicts coming in which simply having more manpower on my side would be an incredible advantage, not to mention the fact that the Gotei Thirteen needs new captains."

Shinji snorted, a touch of bitterness buried deep within the sound. "You're not seriously suggesting that Kensei and I—you are, aren't ya? Figures. Ya struck me as the headstrong type."

"Thanks," I said blithely, grinning. Shinji swatted me on the shoulder.

"Don't get too cocky, brat. I'm still older than ya by a few centuries."

"Age doesn't mean wisdom. And with that haircut – "

"Ah, shut up," Shinji interrupted, his smile returning. "Look, Ichigo. I like ya, I really do. You're a good kid, and from what I've got you're honest. And since you're a Visored like us, somethin tells me that sticking with you is going to make our lives a lot more interesting."

"Do you _want_ your lives to be a lot more interesting?"

"Ichigo, we've been running from the Gotei Thirteen for the better part of a century with nothing to do but spend time with each other. I can tell ya the names of every single manga Lisa reads, every song Rose loves, every – "

"I get the idea," I cut in, smiling just a little, only to frown after a moment. "By the way, where's Hiyori?"

Shinji glanced around before shrugging. "She's probably in the kitchen. I suppose that I should go get her—Love doesn't like it when someone steals what he views as 'his' leftover food."

"Does he have it marked as his?"

"No."

"Well, you have fun with that," I grunted, getting to my feet and gently depositing my plate and utensils on top of Shinji's. "I've gotta get home; it's starting to get late."

"Tch. Lazy bastard. Fine; go run home. But you'd better be back here later."

I suppressed a smirk I stretched out my arms. "Don't get too attached, Hirako. Your buddies might get the wrong idea."

Shinji rolled his eyes. "Get out of here, ya insolent brat."

"Gladly," I called over my shoulder. As I left, I heard the various goodbyes from the rest of the Visored who were paying attention (and actually willing to say goodbye) and then saw Hacchi create a small hole in the barrier surrounding the warehouse.

I stepped through it, seeing the shimmering orange surface close up and disappear behind me, leaving nothing but the glimmering stars and the moon above. It wasn't too late, however, and I could still see faint streaks of sunlight painting the western horizon. If I hurried, I could probably make it back to the house before I had originally planned.

Although, no matter what I did at this point, my dad was still going to yell at me (and probably attack me) for missing dinnertime for the third day in a row.

It wasn't as though I was doing it intentionally. Hollows popped up at random times and I wasn't going to let some innocent soul get eaten just because I wanted to enjoy a little more curry.

Lately, however, I had been thinking about materializing Zangetsu and having him patrol while I ate.

It was amusing that I thought about materializing my spirits so casually. For most people, the Reiryoku cost of materializing a Zanpakutō spirit was enormous and maintaining it was training for bankai in and of itself. For me, on the other hand, it was more of a casual ability thanks to my vast reserves of Reiryoku. Zangetsu had been an incredible asset during the war, helping out in places that I couldn't get to in the middle of a fight.

The farther away he was from me, unfortunately, the harder it was for me to maintain the manifestation. Well, not 'harder', per say. It was simply more draining, but not by a significant enough margin for it to matter in Karakura Town.

_Hey, Zangetsu._

**_"What?"_**

_Would you be up for patrolling while I'm in school or eating or anything like that? As long as you don't get caught or detected or anything._

The Zanpakutō spirit was silent for a minute as he processed my request.

**_"Yeah, sure. That's just more hollows for me ta kill!"_**

I smiled as I sensed Zangetsu's usual bloodlust roll through me. Some things never changed.

* * *

_A/N And that's it for today. Next chapter should be out on like the third of next month or thereabouts, and I think you'll like it. Either that, or you'll hate it. I'm curious to see which it will be. As usual, just check my profile for news._

_Review responses:_

_SadisticAvocado: First things first: I like your username. Second, I don't plan on doing the Quincy Arc, at least not any time soon if at all. I doubt I'll be doing the first movie because I'm a lazy __motherfu-ah, person. And your compliments are much appreciated!_

_Kragh50: Ichigo will not be joining the Zero Division in this story, at least I doubt it very much. Not enough is known about them (how they got into the squad, though I could guess and make something up). He also won't be becoming a captain in Soul Society; that would mean leaving the World of the Living, and he's still just a guy with his own family and friends that he now wants to protect more than ever. And I'm not going to touch the Quincy arc right now. Too much trouble._

_Guest: The future plot line? Man, I'd love to know that too._

_Crimson Homura: I think I fixed it, thanks!_

_jcampbellohten: I believe I fixed most of the errors I made, and thank you for the feedback!_

_Skyray: I've got a lot of conflicting opinions on the Quincy Arc in my reviews. It's interesting to see why people do/don't like it._

_IMixDangerousChemicals: You shouldn't do that. I mean, your pen name. Username. Whatever. And thank you!_

_Lord Circe: Yeah, I spent a while thinking about what I was going to change in the arrancar arc. The next arcs should also be quite different, especially the Amagai arc._

_Kvothel: 1. I have no idea what Ichigo's release phrase is. Honestly, I've been trying to avoid writing it, though I do have a few ideas in mind. 2. Ichigo does know the Blut techniques, but that's it. 3. Murumasa will not be joining Ichigo. Though it's an interesting idea and I don't mind reading about it, I personally don't think that even Ichigo's conglomerate of a soul could handle another Zanpakuto spirit. They are pieces of a different person, after all. Lot's of stuff will be changed; just wait._

_r3nlock: Well, you got at least one of the things you were waiting for in this chapter._

_Man, the amount of support for this story is absolutely insane and I never expected it to get this popular. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to review; you guys are incredible and I love hearing from you! (Not to mention the fact that you're incredible at catching the mistakes that I miss when I'm proofreading.) This won't be for a while, but I just feel like saying that the opening for chapter 10 is one of the most intense things I've ever attempted writing. 'Course, I haven't even finished chapter 9, but sue me. I'm an ambitious little girl. You lot will like chapter 9 enough anyway. I think._

_Until next time,_

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	9. Chapter 9

_If you guys need a summary of the story, check out the beginning of last chapter. The only thing that's happened since then is that Ichigo met up with the Visored and Shinji took a liking to him in a what-the-hell-you're-from-the-future-and-I-like-your-sense-of-humor kind of way. Oh, and I forgot to mention that the Espada also know that Ichigo is from the future._

_Also, I'm sure some of you guys have noticed my recent dive (head-over-heels plummet) into the One Piece fandom. Is it taking away writing time for these stories? Most definitely. Is that going to matter in the long run? Not for this story, hopefully. However, I do have final exams looming on the horizon, so the update date for next month will probably be delayed by a week or so anyway (on the bright side, I'll be done with school for the summer)._

_Anyway, on with the chapter. (It's one of my favorite chapters, by the way, and longer than normal by almost 500 words)_

* * *

Chapter 9

Zangetsu and I sat side-by-side on cushions of Reishi, lost in our own thoughts. The Old Man stood a meter away, his expression and posture as regal as ever. A sense of nostalgia pervaded our entire group.

It was incredibly quiet. A wind pushed against me but I paid it no mind, instead focusing on the clouds that passed beneath me like the waves of a vast ocean, tinged with swathes of fire from the sunset. The brilliant pink and red hues mixed with the natural white of the clouds and created a calming display that was simply breathtaking to watch. Patches of shadow and light created depth while natural depressions appeared as incredible valleys and hills that moved with the patience of the oldest of creatures. The display appeared to stretch on forever, only stopped by the horizon, but even that seemed moot.

A plane had passed by hours earlier, leaving a streak in its wake that caught the dying sunlight and seemed to defy the inevitability of the night that encroached on the vestiges of the day.

It was a sight that I had only gotten to enjoy once during the war, in the beginning when Orihime had wondered aloud whether Shinigami could survive above the clouds.

We could. And it was the best piece of information I had ever learned.

Below me, I knew, it was a cloudy and abnormally chilly day in Karakura Town. Gray clouds squatted in the sky, threatening rain, while the temperatures ensured that none but the determined was willing to go outside to play because it was abnormally cold.

I had rapidly grown tired of my father's latest antics—though I had put up with them (and even enjoyed some of them) for as long as I dared—and managed to get an early bedtime on grounds of a headache and school the next day. My dad had pouted at that (seeing that made me want to roll my eyes every time, but the I always stopped myself) but allowed me to leave, which I appreciated.

I had gone into my room, arranged my body on the bed in a sleeping position, and left. At least I didn't have to worry about opening and closing the window.

I took a deep breath, enjoying the bite that the oxygen-poor atmosphere held. It was convenient that my Shinigami body was far more durable than my human one and even appeared to need less oxygen (probably a side effect of being dead). The altitude still made me feel a bit off, but nothing dramatic. The first few minutes were always difficult as I adjusted, but once I did, I was fine.

It was nice to get away from Soul Society and all the crap that came with it for a while, even if it only amounted to an hour or two. Sure, it was cold, but the view made up for that easily. Not that I had ever really been bothered by temperature anyway.

As a thin, wispy cloud drifted far over my head, I lay down on my back, using Reishi to make the position as comfortable as possible while staring up at the slowly emerging stars.

The clarity of the cosmos was almost breathtaking.

I really did seem insignificant, I mused. Without the lights of Karakura interfering nearly as much, I could see the skies in all their glory as the sun finally admitted defeat and fell below the horizon.

It was awe-inspiring yet indescribably sobering.

No matter what I did in the future, the stars would still shine. The Earth would still turn, and the clouds would still reflect the light of the sunset. The sheer scale of everything made my head hurt.

How had Aizen ever thought that he could command power to control to heavens? He was no god. Even at my strongest, _I_ was no god. The idea of something out there strong enough to shape worlds, to hold everything in balance, to be the key to the universe, was staggering.

With the onset of night, the wind gained a sharper bite to it and began tugging at my Shihakushō, toying with the torn-up sleeves and rustling the bottoms of my hakama.

Making a wordless noise of satisfaction, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I wasn't trying to meditate, simply doing one of the calming exercises I had practiced time and time again in the past (future). If there was ever a time to crack open the box, this was it.

My Zanpakutō spirits probably sensed what I was planning and wordlessly shifted closer to me in silent support.

Feeling as though I was stepping off a cliff into an abyss with no bottom, I opened the box.

* * *

_"Ichigo!" Rukia was screaming my name, pinned in place by some hollow's attack and desperately trying to get out of the trap._

_"I'm coming! Rukia, hold on!"_

_"Run, Ichigo!" Rukia screamed again. "Don't get closer!"_

_"Screw that! Don't be stupid; hang on and I'll get you out!"_

_There were tears in her eyes. Why was she crying? She'd gotten Ukitake to safety; if she just waited I could get her out too!_

_The hollow nearest to Rukia suddenly began glowing, its Reiatsu skyrocketing, and my eyes widened in horrified understanding._

_"Rukia!" My voice cracked and I stretched my aching my muscles to their limits. I felt one muscle tear with a flash of heat and pain as my Shunpo faltered from sheer exhaustion._

_The explosion knocked me off my feet and blew me back until I slammed into a crystalline tree, nearly breaking it in half. Something sharp stabbed me in the abdomen, and with blurry, pain-fogged vision I looked down and saw the branch impaling my right side, just barely missing my vital areas._

_Then pain overtook me and I descended into darkness._

* * *

_"Byakuya, where's Renji?"_

_The bloodied captain of the Sixth Division looked worn, traces of pain flickering at the edges of his expression. For once, the Kuchiki noble didn't seem to have his feelings under control._

_That only made me clench my fists. We couldn't lose another one. Not now, not when Aizen was all but knocking on our doors._

I _couldn't lose another one. Not with Rukia already gone._

_"Where. Is. Your. Lieutenant?" I repeated, enunciating every word with painful clarity._

_Byakuya paused in his stride towards the command tent, which I had just left upon sensing Byakuya's Reiatsu and not Renji's. "My lieutenant . . . did not make it out of the field of battle."_

* * *

_Karin and Yuzu were so close. I could see the fear in their eyes, and though Karin was doing her best to hide it (even now, you're trying to be strong and Karin please understand I'm so damn sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm _sorry_). They kicked and struggled but the arrancar holding them just laughed hollowly at their attempts and wrenched their arms back, eliciting cries of pain from both girls. Instinctively, I started forward__—_

_Only to be held back by so many kid__ō barriers and half-formed seals that I could _feel_ my Reiatsu being suppressed and forced tight to my body even as my limbs suddenly refused to _move_. _

_"Ichigo!" Yuzu yelled, only to start choking when Aizen tightened his grip around her neck, doing the same to Karin before the other girl could try saying anything. Swearing up a storm in my head at seeing my sisters (my little, innocent sisters that shouldn't be here shouldn't be in this war should be protected _why couldn't I protect them_) stuck in Aizen's grasp, I struggled against the bindings holding me back, beginning to break free of most of them almost immediately. Aizen realized I was on the verge of breaking free and grinned (could it really be called a grin?), kicking the corpse of my father sprawled at his feet, blood still pooling around him, staining the white captain's haori my father had always held on to._

_The idiot had tried to rescue his precious daughters, had nearly succeeded, but Aizen tricked him with visions and deceptions because he was a _bastard_ that just laughed in my desperate and dying father's face while Yuzu and Karin were ripped from our home (it was supposed to be _safe_ why wasn't it _safe?). _Now my dad, the goofy idiot that had always attacked me in the morning and laughed off my scowls and irritated yells, was lying dead at his enemy's feet, an arm's length from his daughters._

_"LET THEM GO!" I screamed, hating the way my voice cracked. "YOU BASTARD, LET MY SISTERS _GO_!"_

_"I think not," the traitor replied, his sickeningly smooth voice cutting across the desolated area, drowning out the eerie silence. "After all, a good hero always needs motivation. Don't you see yourself as the hero, Ichigo? I'm doing you a favor." He was smirking. _Smirking_. At me. "After all, you think I'm the villain of this tale. I regret to say this, but that really isn't the case." He glanced at the two squirming girls held in his hands, mild interest on his face. "It's a pity. I always wondered if your sisters would develop their abilities the same way you did. Apparently not."_

_"NO!"_

_His hands began to glow and Karin and Yuzu's struggles became more desperate. I focused all my power on breaking free, tearing through bindings and barriers and not even noticing that my Reiatsu was distorting the very air in my rage. The glow was getting painfully bright and Karin and Yuzu were crying my name, begging, _pleading_ for me to save them because they couldn't do it themselves and I was their brother I wouldn't let them die _I would save them_—_

_My world went white, an ear-shattering explosion sending me flying right as I broke the last of the bindings._

* * *

_"Orihime!" I yelled, my voice almost failing me as I desperately struggled against the powerful arrancar that were doing everything they could to hold me back. "Dammit Orihime! Listen to me—stay calm! I'm coming!"_

_The redhead weakly tried to pry apart Aizen's grip around her throat, but it was useless. Her hairpins lay broken on the ground around her, and blood ran from wounds all over her body. More crimson dripped down her right arm from the shoulder, signifying a deep and probably dangerous cut._

_"Get off me!" I roared, desperation and adrenaline flooding my veins with new strength as I threw off the arrancar trying to hold me down and decapitated one before they could even consider recovering._

_In that small window I took off, ignoring the way my bankai's speed didn't seem to be fast enough as Aizen—with a damn smirk on his face, the bastard—brought down Kyoga Suigetsu._

_Orihime made eye contact with me, her eyes filled with terror. She started to say my name; her mouth opened, the muscles in her throat moving to produce sound, and I thought _I will make it I will save her_ but then a blade erupted from her back where her heart was and the light died in her eyes._

_Aizen all but pushed her off his blade and turned a triumphant look on me. The same one from when he killed my sisters._

_In my head, Zangetsu howled in rage and my world turned white._

* * *

_"Ah, you continue to fascinate me, Ichigo Kurosaki."_

_I would've spoken, but my vocal cords had stopped healing correctly days ago and even breathing hurt. I knew my throat was a mangled mess of healed flesh and scars from the number of times Aizen had cut it and my blood decorated the gray walls of the cell in macabre patterns._

_Compromising, I snarled, hating the way the Reiatsu restraints dug into my arms and the blood that dripped down from my wrists where I had struggled too much and the metal had taken chunks out of my wrists._

_"So tenacious," Aizen continued, his appearance making me want to throw up and stare in horrified fascination at the same time. "Even though you are in a situation that you cannot possibly escape, you continue to persist."_

_His blade cut a deep line across my stomach and I bit out a pained cry, cutting it off as soon as I was able and directing all of my hatred at Aizen. He merely looked on with a bemused expression—if his facial features could even create anything remotely similar to a bemused expression—and repeated the act._

_He moved efficiently, cutting into me in the most painful places and forcing me to draw on Zangetsu's power to heal my wounds, only for him to cut them open again._

_Slowly, I could feel my sanity slipping away. __Time passed; I didn't know how long, and I didn't trust Aizen's updates. _

_Lying bastard._

_Aizen walked into the cell, his bemused expression in place as it always was—and wasn't that funny that he always walked in with a bemused expression and kept it in place when he was _cutting me apart_—and took his blade out._

_I knew what was coming next. Dried blood coated my skin as a reminder from the previous days, weeks, months. _

_For some reason, the inevitability was funny. Why wouldn't it be? He was going to be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and didn't he have anything better to do? He seemed like a busy man. But was he? He had an army to run. He must have been busy._

_But I had an army to run too, and I wasn't busy. I was always free. Well, except for the fact that I was in shackles._

_Ha. I was free but not._

_I laughed at the thought, my lips stretching into a parody of a smile that gave even Aizen pause. The genius looked taken aback for a moment before he composed himself._

_"It seems you have finally broken, Ichigo Kurosaki," Aizen said. "The amount of time you stood against me and retained your sanity is . . . commendable. Your loss of reason is unfortunate, but I will enjoy this nonetheless." His eyes flashed. "This is what happens to those who think they can stand against me."_

_More laughter bubbled up inside of me as blood sprayed in the air and I let it out, letting my mind slip into the welcoming embraces of madness._

_Maybe, someday, I would be able to fight my way out of the insanity, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to._

_If I got rescued—no, that wouldn't—wait, were those voices?_

* * *

_"Stop talking, Uryū," I growled, ripping off one of the sleeves of my Shihakushō and expertly wrapping the impromptu bandage around the gaping hole in Uryū's stomach. "You're wasting your breath."_

_"Ichigo—"_

_"I said to stop talking, idiot!" I tried to ignore the desperation in my voice as I ripped off my other sleeve, seeing that the one wasn't enough and was already soaked with blood. "Listen, healers will be here soon; we pushed back the hollows, okay? We won. Just stay awake and you'll be fine. You'll be okay. That hollow didn't even touch you, ya hear? You're perfectly fine."_

_Uryū coughed, his whole body contorting in pain. "You're trying to convince yourself, Ichigo." The Quincy's eyes were glazed with a feverish haze and he wasn't quite focusing on me, his glasses lying broken next to his head. Blood ran from a cut along his forehead, pooling into his hair that was already filled with sand and dust._

_"Stop it, Uryū!" I said, hating the pleading tone in my voice, hating the way I couldn't do anything but apply pressure, hating that I didn't know how to heal, hating the stupid hollows, hating the whole damn war. "You're going to survive th—"_

_"No I'm not, Ichigo!" Uryū gasped in pain, the outburst probably having sent fresh waves of agony throughout his battered body. He quieted, every word sounding strained. "Face it. I've already lost too much blood."_

_"The healers—"_

_"Are trained to heal _Shinigami_. I'm a _Quincy_. It's not the same."_

_"It's close enough, okay? Stop wasting your breath!"_

_"Listen to me, Ichigo."_

_"Uryū, don't!"_

_"_Listen_! I don't have time to fight over this! You're the strongest fighter we've got, Ichigo. You can't stay here; we didn't win, we only pushed them back temporarily! If you don't get out of here you're going to be trapped without reinforcements!"_

_"I'll handle it!"_

_"Don't be stupid! Live to fight another day and don't waste another second on me!"_

_"Uryū, I can't just leave you here! I'll take you with me!"_

_"Ichigo, you're almost as beat up as I am. If you try to take me you're only going to end up getting caught."_

_"I'll—"_

_I stopped as Uryū was wracked by another coughing fit for a nearly a minute. My anxiety increased with every second that passed._

_"Ichigo."_

_"I don't like your tone, Uryū. Don't sound like that." Swallowing had suddenly become difficult. "Please don't talk like that."_

_"Keep fighting," Uryū said, his voice growing quieter as his strength began to fail him. "Kick Aizen back to Hell." His eyes unfocused further and I tried to apply more pressure to his wound, ignoring the logical part of me that said it was pointless and that he was too far gone._

_Suddenly, I realized that Uryū had lifted his hand and pressed something against my chest._

_"Take it," he mumbled, his eyes drifting shut. "Be strong, Ichigo."_

_I grabbed his wrist right as his eyes closed entirely. "Uryū? Uryū, listen to me, dammit! Don't go! You can't leave me! Uryū!"_

_I tried to speak more but my voice gave way to a sob that had been building in my throat since Rukia, since Renji, since my family, since Orihime and I let it come, tears rolling down my face as I finally began to mourn. They splashed against Uryū's unmoving chest, made by a lucky shot from a hollow._

_"Uryū, you stupid Quincy, you can't . . . you can't leave me here." I swallowed, letting what Uryū had been trying to give me slide into my fingers and gently laying his hand over his bloody stomach._

_The Quincy bracelet shone in what little light of the moon reached it._

* * *

_Aizen was stronger than me. I could see that much clearly, though I outmatched him in speed and that was probably the only reason I hadn't taken one of his stronger attacks directly yet._

_We clashed on the sands of Hueco Mundo, my merged blade against his, our swords decimating the landscape with every swing._

_And then, in an instant, everything went wrong._

_Aizen sped up, reaching a speed that I didn't know he could reach and catching me entirely off guard. He raised his hand, chanting something I couldn't hear, and his Reiatsu concentrated in his hands._

_I cursed, already moving to get away, but I knew I wasn't going to be fast enough._

_Aizen released his attack and destruction raged in a concentrated wave towards me, making a noise like a deafening roar. I braced myself, bringing my blade up to deflect as much of the attack as I could in order to minimize the damage. Blut Vene was already running full strength, but I knew it wouldn't be enough._

_And then a shadow darted in front of me, its arm already swinging into action while it released a powerful blue energy blast._

_"El Directo!" Chad called._

_"Get out of the way!" I roared, stopping my retreat and moving forward. "Chad, _get out of the way_!"_

_Chad braced himself and glanced back at me in the moments before the attack hit._

_"Get out of here, Ichigo," he said quietly, his voice somehow still carrying to me easily._

_And then the attack hit, and Chad became nothing more than a silhouette as energy raged past him in a terrifying display of power. Some streams of light made it past Chad and revealed his face, which was contorted in pain and concentration. The giant realized I still hadn't left and, with eery calmness, Chad took his right hand off the shield on his right and gave me a thumbs up as the winds finally blew his hair away from his face._

_It was the first time I had ever seen both of Chad's eyes at once._

_And they were filled with conviction, a silent determination and belief that made my heart ache._

_Every sound seemed to fade to nothing as Chad's defense finally broke and he was consumed by the wave of energy._

_I was already running, sprinting at my fastest speed and ignoring the way my heart was pounding, ignoring the way my emotions seemed to be leaving me, ignoring the way I was already throwing everything I had experienced into a box because _I could not bear it.

_The lock slammed firmly into place, solidifying my resolve to end Aizen's existence._

* * *

My eyes snapped open and I shot up, instantly regretting that decision as blood rushed to my head and my world spun for a moment. Luckily, I instinctively kept the Reishi below me solidified so plunging from the sky was not one of my worries. When my vision cleared, I realized that both of my Zanpakutō spirits were staring at m, their expressions differing vastly.

The Old Man looked slightly pained but there was a satisfaction in his expression that I hadn't seen before. He had been adamant in getting me to face the deaths I had locked in that box, and the pride that held his back straight made a small, tired smile cross my face.

Zangetsu, on the other hand, had stood up and was clenching his jaw and studiously avoiding my gaze as his hands balled into fists and then loosened repeatedly.

"Zangetsu?" I prodded quietly, slowly getting to my feet to avoid another spontaneous headache. The hollow gradually stopped opening and closing his hands, straightening out and letting out a deep breath.

**"I knew it would be bad, King," **he said, swallowing as he turned to face me. **"But I didn't think it would be that bad."**

I walked over to him and pulled him into a hug, ignoring the partially insane part of me that found the idea of me hugging a clone of myself (and a hollowfied clone at that) particularly hilarious. Zangetsu folded into me, his hands digging painfully into my back.

"I should've known to warn you," I muttered, staring at the moon in the distance, noting that it had been over two hours since I had begun my meditation.

I had forgotten that Zangetsu experienced every emotion I did to an exponentially higher degree. My pain was his pain, my anger his anger, my despair his despair, and vice versa. Normally, he was perfectly capable of handling those emotions—he'd been doing it for long enough—but I had kept that box closed for a reason.

Even now, I had to swallow around the lump in my throat that came from the memories and I knew there were tear tracks running down my face and new tears were still forming as the anguish and despair and fury I had locked away came surging out.

While trying to steady my breathing, I rubbed slow circled on Zangetsu's back, remembering the times that he had awkwardly tried to help me when we had first been reintroduced as Shinigami and Zanpakutō, not substitute Shinigami and inner hollow. Zangetsu shuddered once before pulling himself together and pushing away from me. We both stepped back, a silent acknowledgement and thanks passed between us in that moment.

With some effort, I forced the box in my head closed, deciding that I would visit my mom's grave the next day. Talking with her had always calmed me, and I had already done it before I went to Hueco Mundo. This time, I wouldn't avoid the painful parts.

"You know that this isn't the best way to do this," the Old Man advised, his words only slightly reproachful. I glanced at him, then at Zangetsu, and back at the Old Man.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm not gonna do it any other way."

* * *

"Hey, Mom. I was here two days ago but I think there are some other things I need to tell you."

I spread out the small lunch I had made—I wasn't going to school today—and began unpacking the sandwich. Both sides of Zangetsu stood a few meters away from me in opposite directions, keeping watch in case anyone was stupid enough to intrude on my space. I doubted that even Yoruichi was feeling up to it with the way my Reiatsu had apparently blanketed Karakura Town with pain last night.

At least Uryū, Chad, and Orihime had all been asleep by the time my subconscious lost control over my power. It was lucky that I kept my power sealed, too, because then the damage I could unintentionally inflict was minimal.

I spent a minute fortifying myself mentally while taking a few bites of my sandwich and wishing I was as good a cook at Yuzu. The war had forced me to pick up new skills (and improve one ones I already had; _someone_ had to do the cooking while Yuzu was still growing up, and Goat-Chin would probably set fire to water), so I could cook fairly well—I excelled at quick, tasty, and filling meals—but I would never be able to match Yuzu in the kitchen.

And then I opened my mouth and began speaking, promising myself that I wouldn't leave until I got every single damn thing out of that box and into the air.

I described Rukia's death; the week of nonstop, careless, _reckless_ fighting I had participated in following it just to avoid thinking about it. I talked about how my friends had tried to comfort me, and then tried to comfort Renji and Byakuya, and eventually given up on getting us to open up about it. We were in a war, after all, and there wasn't exactly time for therapy when death hung over our heads like a disease.

And then there was Renji's death when he and Byakuya were jumped by four new and powerful Espada and Renji gave his life to let Byakuya get away because Byakuya had still been the stronger of the two and Renji, despite his attitude, was the most loyal person out there to those he believed deserved that loyalty.

His death had devastated me and once more I had thrown myself into fighting with mindless determination to not think about it or anything else.

I had to pause in my speaking at that point and eat for a few minutes, using the food as a distraction to get my emotions under control. After checking with my Zanpakutō to make sure that they were okay, I set down my food.

I continued with Orihime's demise, having to pause there more than I did with Rukia's because Orihime's death would always haunt me. I had failed her utterly, failing to break through the hollows and literally making eye contact with her as Aizen stabbed her through the heart. My breath hitched when I described the way the light left her eyes and then the way Zangetsu and I had been flooded with so much rage so quickly that we hollowfied fully almost instantly and attacked Aizen with all the fury we had available—and there was a _lot_.

In the end, Aizen had won by using an illusion from his Zanpakutō—Orihime, standing in front of me, alive and well.

It had shocked me to my core, and Aizen had taken that opportunity to capture me, sensing that he had lost his advantage. He had bound me in Bakudō before I even realized that Orihime wasn't actually there, and by the time I began breaking the bindings he had already clamped Reiatsu suppressors on me and broken my mask.

I spent over a year in Aizen's care, I explained. He played with me the entire time. After long enough, I had given into madness just to keep my mind from tearing itself apart from the pain. Eventually, Shinji and the other Visored had led a rescue party and gotten me out while Aizen was distracted, though they had lost Love while doing so and Lisa had been heavily injured.

My voice had taken two months to recover, my Reiryoku and mind matching that, though even now there were still cracks spiraling throughout my psyche. Aizen's experiments and torture had somehow made me far stronger, and I found out the next time I faced him that had done that intentionally to provide more of a challenge to him. He had wanted me to escape; everything about the war, except for the end, had been nothing more than a game to him.

Uryū's death hadn't hit me immediately because of shock, but we had grown close over the years and the fact that he had given me his Quincy cross—his proudest possession, one that identified him with his ancestors and rightful lineage—signified that.

When I described the bracelet, I reached into my pocket and pulled it out, letting it glint in the sunlight.

It looked better in the daytime. I spent a few minutes just toying with the bracelet and staying quiet, since my throat was rapidly becoming raw. Even now, I couldn't speak very much and when I did my voice became scratchy and my speech painful.

Eventually, I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, deciding that I would wear it when I wasn't around my friends. The Uryū of the future deserved at least that much for all that he had done for me. I hadn't been wearing the bracelet before because I was worried someone— Uryū—would recognize it.

Chad's death was the hardest. My voice was tinged with disbelief at the fact that, in his last living moments, he had given me—of all things—a _thumbs-up_.

I never saw his body.

Uryū and Orihime's second deaths were terrible, and I forced myself to stay calm. It had taken me several weeks to realize that they were in Soul Society somewhere, and though that had taken the edge off my grief, I hadn't been able to look for them until after the war, and by that point it had been too late because Aizen beat me to the punch.

That was the one thing I had not locked in the box. I had focused on that moment during my meditation after the war and slowly gotten over it and coming to terms with the fact that there was no possible way for Uryū and Orihime to return again.

By the time I finished speaking, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. After taking a few minutes to finish my lunch, I cleaned up and began making my way into town.

It only took me about ten minutes to find a vending machine. After inserting some money I punched in what I wanted and grabbed it, tossing the can from hand to hand with a thoughtful expression as I walked.

Today had been interesting.

Pausing, I glanced up at the clouds hovering over Karakura Town, musing that they did an incredible job of hiding the sky above them.

Movement to my left caught my attention and held it. My eyes were rapidly adjusting to the darkness of the alley but even then it was difficult to see through the shadows.

_Zangetsu._

**_"On it."_**

Visible only to me, Zangetsu casually strolled into the alleyway, ready to pull his weapons out in an instant. Upon seeing the occupants of said alley, he relaxed.

**"It's some group o' thugs, King!"** He called, rolling his eyes. **"Six of 'em."**

The hollow returned to my inner world and I sighed, running a hand through my hair in exasperation and mild irritation. I gave one last look at the alley and the obvious figures hiding in it before turning and walking away, sticking one hand in my pocket and using the other to toss the can up and down. The repetition was calming, the repeated sound of the can hitting my hand almost soothing in a way.

I didn't bother to suppress the sigh that slipped between my lips as the sounds of motion—so poorly disguised it might as well have been deafening—emerged from behind me.

**_"Just beat 'em up. Make it quick and make 'em regret comin after ya in the middle of the night."_**

_Didn't think you'd be one to advise against violence._

**_"I'm tired and I wanna sleep. This ain't helpin that."_**

_Fair enough._

_"Try to avoid serious injury. You don't want any solid evidence of this fight taking place."_

_I hear you, Old Man._

In the next few minutes, I discovered—much to my _incredible_ surprise—that I had pissed off another gang at some point recently. The guy in charge was incredibly ugly and he had a habit of putting the emphasis on the wrong part of my name.

I also discovered that the entire group was composed of overconfident assholes that really didn't recognize a one-sided ass kicking when they saw one.

"Idiots," I muttered, letting the last of them drop to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"I couldn't agree more, Ichigo."

"Kisuke," I greeted flatly, turning to face the Shinigami ex-captain. "Is there a reason why you're here? I've gotta get back to my house."

"And do what? You have time to talk to an old friend, don't you?"

"No."

"Well, that's too bad. Actually, you should drop by my shop; Yoruichi said she has something for you."

Judging by the frustration barely hidden in Kisuke's tone, the shopkeeper had tried to find out what that "something" was and failed miserably. Knowing Yoruichi, that fact wasn't surprising.

"Yoruichi has something for me?" I repeated, my mind already running through the possibilities. I decided to poke a little fun at Kisuke since Yoruichi had so kindly provided me the opportunity. "And what would that be?"

Kisuke actually pouted, sticking his lip out and looking like a kid who had just been told he couldn't have any candy. "Yoruichi has decided not to tell me. She insists that only you will understand."

_So it has something to do with my time travel._

_"She doesn't appear to be telling Kisuke any details so there is no reason to be overly concerned."_

**_"Tch. If it ain't sleep I ain't interested right now."_**

_That's a first._

Zangetsu gave me the mental equivalent of the middle finger and said nothing more.

"Fine, then," I said, popping open the can in my hand and taking a quick drink. It almost tasted like fruit.

Kisuke led the way at a brisk pace as we walked back to his shop. By the time we arrived, I had only drunk half of my juice.

Yoruichi was waiting for me, leaning against the open shop door, her golden eyes glittering. She pushed off the doorframe upon seeing me, her eyes automatically drifting to Kisuke.

"I'm surprised you managed to get him here," Yoruichi said. "What did you promise him? Candy?"

"You make me sound like a perverted old man, Yoruichi," Kisuke protested while feigning hurt. "You know that's not entirely fair. I also promised him a drink."

Yoruichi eyed the drink in my hand. "It seems as though he already has one."

As if to highlight Kisuke's mistake, I took another sip of my drink with exaggerated sound effects. Kisuke shot me a hurt look and I rolled my eyes.

"You're a child," I said flatly.

"A very ingenious child. Now, Yoruichi, you were going to give Ichigo a gift?" Kisuke's voice trailed off with a trace of hope at the end and I rolled my eyes.

"Of course," Yoruichi said pleasantly. "Ichigo, let's walk. And Kisuke," the Goddess of Flash added, her voice gaining a touch of steel, "do not follow."

The shopkeeper looked a touch distraught at that, though he didn't protest. "Just let me know when you get back."

"Like you wouldn't notice. I see the cameras, you pervert."

Yoruichi brushed past Kisuke and ignored his protests while snagging my arm and forcing me to walk away from the Urahara Shop. I didn't stop her from pulling me along, though I made a point of shaking off her hand and falling into step beside her.

"What's this about? Why did you get me something?"

**_"I bet she didn't even get ya anything. She probably did it just ta mess with ya."_**

_That doesn't seem like something she would do._

**_"Are ya really sure about that?"_**

_You have a point._

Yoruichi glanced back at me as though she'd heard the mental conversation, her expression an odd mixture of serious and playful that only she could pull off. It made me a little disconcerted, and automatically I began running through possibilities.

Sex was out of the question. Yoruichi wasn't that kind of person, and though she had always enjoyed teasing me she never went past that. We respected each others' boundaries and left it at that.

Some kind of training was possible, since Yoruichi was leading me to a largely deserted park that had plenty of open space. However, it had just as many closed off areas, so I couldn't be sure. It wasn't as though Yoruichi had much (if anything) left to teach me; she had done everything she could during the war. Plus, Kisuke had that basement training ground that was far more private.

A gift . . . could that mean a literal kind of present? If so, what could Yoruichi possibly get me? It was impossible to even guess at something like that. She could have been attempting to embarrass me, but then it made no sense to leave Kisuke. The shopkeeper had always found delight in my discomfort, almost as much as his sometimes feline companion.

"Don't think too hard, Ichigo, or you might strain yourself."

"Hilarious, Yoruichi," I replied, returning to reality and noting that we had trekked into a more remote area of the park where we were no likely to be seen. My instincts were telling me to leave the open and exposed space, but at the same time I knew that the area was safe. "Why'd you bring me out here? I have homework to do."

The excuse was flimsy and both Yoruichi and I knew it. "Ichigo, you and I both know that you can complete your homework in half an hour if you really needed to. Don't go throwing that around as an excuse. Now, sit down."

Yoruichi directed me to a bench and I saw down on the wrought metal, still taking small sips of my juice.

Even now, I wasn't entirely used to eating or drinking too much at once. The first meal I had when I got back had kept me up all night while I threw up, my stomach unable to cope with that much food at once. I had to eat it, though. I couldn't let Karin and Yuzu think something was wrong with me, so I had toughened it out and ignored the nausea I felt when looking at a full plate. My tolerance had gradually been improving, and now I was fine with eating a regular meal, though seconds were usually out of the question.

So I took slow drinks of my juice and eyed Yoruichi as she pulled out a small package from behind a nearby tree before sauntering back over to me.

The package was small, less than the length of my arm and maybe that thick. Yoruichi was carrying it easily, even in a gigai, so it probably wasn't that heavy, but Yoruichi was also deceptively strong. It could've weighed anything (within reason, of course; even Yoruichi wasn't able to haul around two hundred pound weights like they were nothing).

"I didn't realize you were getting me a present," I commented dryly. "I would've gotten you something in return."

"No need," Yoruichi replied, her tone sly as she pushed me to one side on the bench and sat next to me, the motions as graceful as they ever were. Seeing her like this, carefree and _alive_, made my heart ache, but not nearly as much as it had before.

Yoruichi handed me the present and I raised an eyebrow at its weight. There was definitely something in there that was quite dense.

"Go on, open it," Yoruichi said, definite pride coloring her tone. I raised an eyebrow at her obvious anticipation before turning my attention to the box.

**_"C'mon, King, open it. We're dyin in here!"_**

_"I seem to recall that you were begging for the chance to sleep not five minutes ago. Unless I'm wrong, which I don't think I am."_

**_"Things change, Old Man."_**

_Yeah, I can tell._

**_"Oh, shut up."_**

I opened the box with some trepidation, already having probed it with all my senses to make sure that there wouldn't be any unwelcome surprises.

When I saw what was inside, I didn't do anything more than blink. "A scarf, Yoruichi?"

"Don't be so quick to judge," the lithe woman replied, snatching the scarf from the box and holding it up.

It was made of a black material that reflected no light and appeared to be ragged around the edges as though it had seen tougher times. When Yoruichi stepped behind me—and reassured me that she wasn't trying to choke me—and draped the scarf around my neck, I realized that it was actually quite soft while appearing to be the opposite.

"What is this?" I asked, trying to avoid wincing at the contact with the scars on my neck and failing. Despite being in my human body, the injuries on my soul might as well have been on my physical form. Even the neck guard that appeared with my shikai did little to hide the injuries, and while I would be able to get away with it for a while I would need to find a solution soon.

"Your excuse," Yoruichi said, finishing and hopping back over the bench with ease and staring at me critically. She reached up and made some minute adjustments to the cloth before sitting back and making a satisfied noise. "Perfect. Black is your color, Ichigo."

"I'll keep that in mind. Are you going to explain this any time soon?"

Yoruichi pouted in a way eerily similar to Kisuke. "Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine. I'm just wondering why you're giving me a scarf."

"To hide the scars on your neck when you fight," Yoruichi explained. "When you go into bankai, your neck guard changes and your scars become visible." She saw me open my mouth to ask when she'd seen that and quickly explained. "I remember noticing your scars when you first appeared and dropped into what I'm assuming was your bankai. Anyway, I figured that wearing a scarf would help with that."

I reached up and rolled the material between my fingers, noting that it seemed rather durable. "Where did you even get this?"

Yoruichi grinned. "I'll keep my secrets and you keep yours. Before you even ask, I need you to go into your Shinigami form for a second."

I gave her a searching look before exiting my body and standing over her, one eyebrow raised in silent question. For some reason, I wasn't surprised when Yoruichi pulled another scarf out of the box and tossed it at me, a small, self-satisfied grin on her face.

Reflexively, I caught the scarf and, at Yoruichi's insistence, put it on. My eyes narrowed immediately upon realizing that the scarf didn't feel exactly like the other one.

"You've probably noticed that the scarf feels different," Yoruichi sad, her grin widening as her golden eyes sparkled. "That's because it's designed for your Shinigami form. It's made of Reishi!"

"That's impressive," I admitted. "And why are you giving it to me?"

Yoruichi ignored my words—as I had expected her to—and gestured for me to return to my body. After one last glance at the scarf, I did so.

The scarves for both my human and Shinigami bodies were warm, and there was some small reassurance to be found in having my scars covered up. That had been a constant source of anxiety in the back of my mind with the fear that_ someone _would ask about them. Luckily, after the fight with Byakuya, I could say that Senbonzakura had gotten in a few lucky hits, but that wouldn't hold up very well against the more suspicious members in (and out of) Soul Society. It was sheer luck that the scars hadn't been noticed during my post-Aizen interrogation.

"You have something else for me," I noted, looking back in the box and seeing the gleaming substance inside that was clearly metal.

"Indeed I do. Actually, Ichigo, I need you to leave your body again."

I shot her a slightly irritated look, demonstrating an annoyance I didn't really feel, but nevertheless I exited my body once again and stood across from Yoruichi, ignoring the way my body was slumped awkwardly over the bench.

The Goddess of Flash reached into the box lying across my lap and removed two objects, holding them in her hands. I could tell immediately that they were made of Reishi as well.

"Hold out your arms," Yoruichi instructed.

I did as I was told. If Yoruichi noticed the Quincy cross dangling from my wrist, she either didn't care or didn't think it warranted any comment. "Are those arm guards?"

"Yes. Now don't move."

Yoruichi slid the black metal gauntlets over my hands. They covered my forearms, with straps extending around to fasten the guards to my arm. Yoruichi snapped them on in less than a minute, watching my face when she tightened the guards to figure out when they were the most comfortable.

The arm guards had attached black fingerless gloves and I flexed my fingers while Yoruichi finished, examining the material of the gloves and finding them satisfactory.

"There," Yoruichi announced, stepping back. "What do you think?"

I flexed my arms and hands once more, bending my arms and checking whether the metal plates—they fit like overlapping scales—would dig into my arm at all.

They didn't, and I found that they were also quite breathable as a breeze rustled through the branches of the nearby trees.

While Yoruichi watched with an expression of amusement, I took more time to examine what she had just put on me.

The metal plates interlocked smoothly, and though they were raised slightly it wasn't enough to interfere in fighting. In fact, if it came down to it, I would be able to wedge a thin-bladed sword between two and hold it there, provided the plates didn't break. Along the edges, barely visible decal traced intricate patterns that spoke of power. My eyes narrowed as I stared at them.

_These . . . are Kidō formulas._

**_"They're all about power, King. Takin it and harnessin it."_**

_I can see that. What's it being used for, though? And who has the talent to make something like this?_

"If you're wondering," Yoruichi said, "Tessai offered his assistance in making the guards as payment for the work you've done around the shop over the past few weeks."

Right. I'd been hanging around Kisuke's shop to help out. And to drive Kisuke insane because my constant presence would only highlight the inconsistencies in my behavior.

"Nice of him," I commented.

"Very," Yoruichi agreed. "Those formulas are designed to tap into whatever Reiatsu you provide them and circulate it around those guards in a way that strengthens them using your power."

"Like a synthetic form of wearable Hierro," I muttered.

Yoruichi blinked. "Ah, sure. Anyway, they probably won't help you very much because of your natural defensive capabilities, but they do hide the scars there as well."

"Ishida was asking me about those."

"What did you tell him?"

"Senbonzakura."

"I see. Well, those guards should divert attention away from those injuries. If nothing else, they look stylish."

I reached up and tugged on the scarf again, already realizing that that would soon become a habit. "Why are you doing all this for me, Yoruichi?"

The woman eyed me for a moment. "You really are selfless, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Ichigo, you defeated Aizen, pacified his arrancar, and did everything that Kisuke had been hoping for in a way he never expected. You've helped everyone far more than they could ever know; you deserve to splurge a little."

"But these are _gifts_, Yoruichi. I don't deserve free presents."

"Well, you're getting them," she said, her tone brooking no argument as she took the box and closed it. "Now, I'm going to return to Kisuke's shop and let him stew in his own ideas as to what happened here."

I stepped back into my body and then stood up and stretched before grabbing my juice. It was almost empty, but it would last through my walk back home. "You have fun with that," I eventually said. "And thank you. Really."

Yoruichi's grin became genuine. "Not a problem. Just don't go expecting free favors from me in the future."

"Like I ever did."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes and we separated, walking in different directions.

**_"Not bad, King. Ya got style now."_**

_And I didn't before?_

_"No."_

_Wow. Thanks, Old Man._

_"I advise you to wear more white. It would offset the black you tend to wear quite nicely. Maybe even blue."_

_I'm not dressing like Ishida, dammit!_

**_"Tch. Like I'd let ya."_**

Zangetsu and his Quincy other half began to argue—as much as the Old Man could argue, since it was mostly Zangetsu who did the yelling—and I tuned them out, enjoying the cooling air as the time began to draw into the late afternoon. I had been away for longer than I had anticipated; Goat-Face would probably be worried. Either that, or he was just going to try to drop kick me the moment I walked through the door.

Either way, things would be fine.

* * *

_A/N The number of follows on this story is absolutely insane. I get a goofy grin on my face just thinking about it, honestly. __Anyway, have some backstory. And some accessories for Ichigo, because I like the way those arm guards and scarf look in my mind's eye. If you don't like it, just pretend they're not there or something. __And I actually came up with a reason why Ichigo keeps his sleeves ripped. Poor kid._

_Anyone catch the foreshadowing? I hinted at what's up next, if you guys don't already know. It's subtle, so props to you if you get it._

_Reviews:_

_Crimson Homura: Yeah, I've read that story. Didn't mind the whole Murumasa-joins-Ichigo's-soul part, but that's just not my cup of tea to write._

_HellboundShadow: It just seemed like something Ichigo would do. He honestly needs someone around to constantly remind him that his power levels are absurd._

_Moot Point: I don't know about Resurreccion or any similar evolution. There would be no real reason for him to use it; there aren't any foes that will appear in this story capable of challenging Ichigo to reach that level, and I don't want to make up an OC like that because I don't like those kinds of characters._

_jcampbellohten: I'm pretty sure I went and fixed everything. No, Ichigo doesn't see the Visored as regular Shinigami; that was a mistake on my part. Ichigo's knowledge of his Quincy abilities mostly comes from Uryu (im)patiently explaining the basic concepts during the war and his inner Quincy spirit. And yes, Ichigo knows both types of Blut, though he doesn't really need to use Blut Arterie at this point because his power level is already insane._

_Buckbuck2: You flatter me, sir or madam._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	10. Chapter 10

_For those of you that were wondering, the foreshadowing in last chapter was the vending machine/soda thing. I wasn't really expecting anyone to get it, honestly. (And my chapter buffer is going to shit soooooo whoops.)_

_1,000 followers? Holy Hell I have so many people to __disappoint._

* * *

Chapter 10

Rage. It burned, coursed through me, scorched my veins, seared my skin, melted me from the inside. Heat and pain and rage and anger and agony and pain and heat and rage and nowhere to go and nowhere to run and nowhere to hide and I just needed to breathe but there was nothing but scorching fury and it tore me apart and ripped me to pieces and melted me to slag and burned me to ashes and it hurt and pain and heat and agony and make it stop make it go away make it leave make it stop please make it stop go away go away go away go _away_—

Ice in my heart, freezing my core, crushing my insides, chilling my muscles, a new kind of pain that numbed me to the outside and I wanted to hit something to make it all just stop but I was alone and freezing and burning and freezing and melting and it wouldn't stop please make it stop and I couldn't feel anything did I even exist and it hurt and make it stop—

Panic and fear and terror and horror and I couldn't run but I had to run had to move had to leave had to get away couldn't stay couldn't stay just go—

Nowhere to go no one to help no support gone nothing there—

No light no heat no cold nothing to touch nothing to feel—

Couldn't think couldn't breathe couldn't _think_—

Have to run have to go can't stay can't leave—

Don't stop don't look back won't look back can't look back nothing to see nothing to believe—

No sight no sound no touch nothing no life nothing there nothing not even _me_—

_"ICHIGO!" _

I woke up in a cold sweat, my stomach roiling and nausea threatening to overwhelm me. With trembling muscles and the vague memory of someone—Orihime?—screaming my name in desperation I staggered into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and barely making it to the toilet in time to heave up my dinner. The taste of bile filled my mouth and I scraped my nails against the tile floor almost without realizing it. My vision swam even as goose bumps rose up and down my arms and a dull ringing filled my ears. I gagged, my entire body convulsing for a moment as echoes of the horrors I had experienced overcame me and threatened to pull me under.

I didn't know how long I stayed like that, on my knees, hugging myself, shivering, drawn and pale with bloodshot eyes and the expression of a cornered animal.

I hadn't felt so vulnerable, so helpless, in years.

Then there was a gentle hand on my shoulder, a source of support that hadn't been there before, and a soft, damp cloth pressing against my face and cleaning off the bile. At some point I must have closed my eyes because when I opened them to see who it was I saw my dad kneeling next to me, gently providing help with an expression that made him look far older than he should. We made eye contact and there was a deep worry in his eyes, a sorrow than ran straight through his soul that I knew was echoed in my own gaze.

More nausea rolled through me and I threw up again but this time my dad was rubbing my back in soothing circles, saying, "it's okay, everything is fine now. You're okay."

I wanted to say that no everything wasn't okay but I couldn't; the words wouldn't come and maybe that was because just this once they weren't true and I didn't have the energy to speak much less lie to my father's face when he was just trying to help.

Isshin didn't say a word after that; he cleaned everything up, helped me to my feet, and supported me while he walked me back to my room. Not once was the silence broken by words, nor the darkness by light. He tucked me in—_Dad, how long has it been since you last did that?_—and then left, sparing one last look at me before he left my room, softly closing the door behind him without disturbing the silencing Kidō I had put up around the room the night before so that my screaming wouldn't wake Karin and Yuzu.

I shuddered, turning over in bed and drawing into myself, trying to still the shivers that still wracked my muscles. Zangetsu and the Old Man were silent in my mind and I knew that it was storming in my inner world as it had nearly every night since Aizen had fallen.

Sleep eluded me for the rest of the night, but I never got up and instead stared at the wall, seeing phantom battles taking place on the smooth surface, watching as nameless and faceless Shinigami were cut down by monstrous hollows, never to get up again.

* * *

Eventually, the morning light drifted through the window and dispelled the images from the wall, but they lingered in my mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to find me once more.

In the morning, my father came barreling through the door, all exuberance and energy and so _normal_ that I couldn't help the small, grateful smile on my face.

"IIIIIIICHIIIIIIIIIIGOOOOOOO!"

My eyes snapped open (though I hadn't been asleep in the first place) and I rolled to one side a second before one overzealous father's foot slammed into the space where my head had been. Another second passed and I reached up, grabbing the offending limb and pulling hard. My father let out a _very_ manly yelp as he fell and I took advantage of his surprise to hurl him across my room, making sure to keep my strength in check.

Isshin crashed into the closet door, then slid down to the floor, letting out a low groan all the while. Even so, he managed to give me a thumbs-up and a crooked smile. "Good job, my son. You have improved so much!"

The thumbs-up wasn't necessarily for my demonstration of strength.

"Shut it, Dad," I muttered with affection that only my father would be able to pick up, sitting up and rubbing my eyes just for show because I had been awake for hours. "Now get out. I need to get dressed for school."

"You don't have school this Saturday." Isshin gave me an odd look with genuine concerned buried within it. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Forget about it," I muttered, getting to my feet and stretching, silently saying, _I'm fine, don't worry_. "Are Karin and Yuzu up?"

"Yup. You slept right through breakfast but Yuzu left some toast out for you!"

I had heard them some time ago. Strange how loud they sounded now when I slept through the mornings with ease before.

"Alright. Thanks, Dad." The thank-you was for more than just this morning; there was no way I could forget what my father had done the night before, and I appreciated it.

"Not a problem!"

Just as quickly as he had appeared, my father disappeared. I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a deep breath. It was strange; my father and I had grown far closer far more quickly than we had the first time. Maybe it was how I had drawn out our conversations, paid a little more attention to him, had a little more patience for his antics.

Odd how much a little knowledge of the future could change relationships so drastically.

* * *

It was midday when I sensed her—them. The Old Man had wanted me to go on a walk, and since he tended to know what was best for my psyche I had listened, grabbing a bottle of water and apple to munch on since Yuzu's breakfast was already fading quickly in my memory, overwritten by instincts that all but demanded I eat whenever possible, insisted that I should never pass up food because I never knew when I would be able to have it again.

Old habits were difficult to break.

At first, I had been somewhat confused. She was ahead of schedule; Rurichiyo Kasumiōji shouldn't have been coming for two more days. Had something pushed up the schedule?

Zangetsu scoffed in my head while his other half, the Old Man, reminded me that I had somewhat messed with the timetables when I killed Aizen. Since the madman had taken his time with his plans before, however, I hadn't realized that it would actually affect when certain events would occur.

Sighing, I finished my apple and water, tossing them into a trash can and recycle bin, respectively.

_I guess the walk isn't really going to work._

**_"Ya got some time ta clear yer head. With all the crap that goes on in yer life that's probably the most yer gonna get for a while."_**

_"There was the time when we stood above the clouds and watched the sunset."_

**_"We only had time 'cause everyone was still reelin' from Aizen's death."_**

_True. But I think the Amagai situation shouldn't be all that difficult to handle if I play it right._

_"The only way to get the Gotei Thirteen on your side in this endeavor is to show them the Kasumiōji's Bakkōtō factory. However, in order to do that, you will have to illegally trespass on Kasumiōji territory."_

_Except I'll have Rurichiyo with me. She isn't going to run off this time._

**_"And how're ya gonna keep her here? Force? How are ya gonna get her ta help ya like that?"_**

_I don't know. I'll think of something._

**_"Ya always do."_**

There was a rare note of fond exasperation in my Zanpakutō spirit's voice, one that I never heard often but was yet a sign of how much Zangetsu had changed. It seemed as though the part of him that was Shinigami had developed alongside his hollow half, slowly maturing into more "human" emotions and giving him a sense of loyalty that went beyond simple respect for my power and strength.

An abrupt surge in the number of Gargantas opening to admit hollows into Karakura alerted me to the fact that Kenryū had likely broken whatever hollow bait he had with him (I had never figured out exactly why he had it; I suspected that it was to show Rurichiyo how dangerous the World of the Living could be without protection and to test my skills as a substitute Shinigami so that he could see whether I was talented enough to protect Rurichiyo or not. Either way, it was damn annoying).

I ducked into a nearby alley as a particularly large and ugly hollow swooped through the space my head had just occupied. It was lucky that I was keeping my Reiatsu suppressed; if I hadn't been, the hollows would have turned on me in an instant. Plus, more would have likely shown up. For the moment, however, they were ignoring me.

Not for long.

Separating from my body, I pulled out Zangetsu and unsealed the sword wordlessly, knowing that I could make my Getsuga Tenshō wider that way so that I could take care of more hollows at once. After all, I didn't have the convenient flyswatter—alternatively known as a Quincy bow.

Uryū still got mad at me in the middle of the war for calling it that. The guy had his pride even after everything that had happened, and that was something I could respect.

After taking care of the hollows immediately near me—they were all weak, as most hollows drawn to bait tended to be—I used Shunpo and shot into the sky, eviscerating several more hollows on the way and not even bothering to watch as they faded into formless Reishi. The monsters quickly surrounding me, sensing the Reiatsu I was barely leaking out. I was making myself look weak, hoping to draw the hollows to my position.

"That's it," I muttered, bringing larger sword back and charging it with Reiryoku. "Keep coming."

When I deemed the moment right, I brought the sword across and in front of my body, releasing the pent-up energy it contained at the same time. A blue crescent shot out of it with incredible speed, giving the hollows no time to react and save themselves. They disintegrated in an instant, leaving no trace of their existence behind.

I touched down on the ground once I sensed Rukia nearby. She had reappeared in the past week, having gotten a brief assignment in the World of the Living.

I had to refrain from sighing. Byakuya was a clever man, I'd give him that; I had no doubt that he suspected something of the Kasumiōji clan, partially because they had been acting suspicious of late (on a _completely_ unrelated note, late night jaunts to Soul Society via Garganta were always fun, especially when no one realized that I had gone. They were also quite informative) and partly because the Kuchiki clan was naturally disinclined towards the other Noble Clans, even if they weren't quite on the same level of society. The eldest Kuchiki had likely pulled some strings to get Rukia to Karakura Town.

The Kasumiōji's production of ceremonial blades had slowed considerably over the past year with the majority of the clan's resources going to something else. With Gyōkaku Kumoi up to his neck in tricks, lies, and assassinations only barely hidden by his noble status it was surprising that the construction of Bakkōtō had not been accidentally discovered previously by some poor lost attendant or visiting noble.

Then again, it was entirely possible that that situation had occurred and the unfortunate witness had met an equally unfortunate end as a result.

Not including Amagai's father, of course. Some other unfortunate witness.

At least I'd already gotten the whole, "Ichigo why are you wearing a scarf you've never worn a scarf before and where did you get those arm guards are those formulas seriously where did you get those did you steal them" rant from Rukia, and a much simpler version from my friends. That had been awkward to explain without making it sound like Yoruichi was being creepy.

The sound of running feet, accompanied by panicked fluctuations of Reiatsu barely kept at levels that hollows wouldn't actively pursue, reached my senses and I turned just in time to see Rurichiyo, Enryū, and Kenryū come barreling over me with incredible speed.

"Hey-!" I started, half-turning to follow where they were going. A massive number of hollows were following them, probably because Kenryū had been the one to break the bait or had accidentally let his Reiatsu slip from his tight control for a moment.

"Handle them! It is your duty!" Kenryū called back, making eye contact with me for just a second. I scowled, turning back around and loosing a Getsuga Tenshō with incredible potency that completely disintegrated the offending monsters. One let out a pathetic dying screech before it disappeared under the blue wave of energy.

"Ichigo!"

Rukia landed next to me, Sode no Shirayuki already released and glinting brightly in the sunlight.

"Rukia," I greeted, sheathing my trench blade when I sensed that it would no longer be necessary. "What's going on? Where did all these hollows come from?" A cloud of hollows was growing in the sky, but I noted that the rate of Garganta openings was declining more and more quickly as the seconds passed.

"Someone broke hollow bait," Rukia replied promptly. "I don't know why, but Uryū, Chad, and Orihime have been working on keeping the damage contained and preventing the hollows from attacking any innocents. I was checking to make sure that you were able to handle things over here."

"I've been handling it," I said, my tone somewhat defensive. As if to prove my words wrong, a hollow's roar pierced the air like a signal for all the others to attack. My scowl—which had softened when Rukia arrived—returned in full force and without even a glance at the petite Shinigami I leaped into the air, bisecting three hollows as I went. Unsheathing my trench blade, I whirled around, using Shunpo to go from hollow to hollow. Even with using Getsuga Tenshō every few moments, there were simply too many hollows for my skill set to handle, and I couldn't risk using Kidō now without drawing suspicion, since I hadn't displayed any affinity for using it in the past.

Rukia worked to assist, her Zanpakutō a beautiful blade of death as she wove through the hollows with incredible grace matched with potent lethality.

Abruptly, blue arrows began tearing the hollows near me to shreds. One came uncomfortably close to my arm and I had to refrain from stepping aside; Quincy arrows and I had a very bad history. After all, my inner Quincy spirit had tried to teach me to summon a Quincy bow through what I could only call an immersion tactic. Needless to say, it hadn't worked out well.

"Watch it, Uryū!" I yelled, scowling. "You almost hit me!"

"Please," replied the Quincy, lowering his bow and pushing up his glasses with his free hand, making them flash. "As if I would make such an amateurish mistake."

"Prick," I muttered, descending to his level and landing in front of him. "Though I'll admit that your flyswatter is handy for handling large numbers of hollows."

Uryū's eyebrow twitched in irritation. "It's not a _flyswatter_, Ichigo."

"Say, Rukia," I said, completely ignoring Uryū. "Did you see those three weirdos?"

Neither Rukia nor I reacted to Uryū's muttered words; for an uptight guy he had a vocabulary that could probably come close to matching mine. At least, mine of six years ago. The Shinigami had taught me a lot of very interesting phrases during the time I spent with them.

"Who? You were the only one here, Ichigo. Though I did sense three odd Reiatsu signatures before I arrived."

"I sensed them as well," Uryū noted, calming down. "You saw them?"

"Yeah, they were kind of hard to miss," I said flatly. "They led a bunch of hollows here and nearly buried me."

"What did they look like?" Rukia asked, pulling out her Denreishinki. She glanced at me expectantly.

"Two guys dressed like Shinigami and one little girl in robes," I answered. "I heard them saying something about how it was my duty to protect 'her'—the little girl, I think."

Rukia made a thoughtful noise, tapping away at her device.

* * *

"Rukia," I asked, my voice mild.

"What is it, Ichigo?" The Shinigami asked as she tapped away at her Denreishinki.

"Could you _please_ stop making that beeping noise? Your phone thing _has_ to have a silent mode! What are you even doing on it, anyway?"

"Since Shinigami are invisible to humans and cannot be heard by them normally, a silent mode was deemed useless by the Twelfth Division. As for what I'm doing, I'm trying to find record of two or three Shinigami passing through the Senkaimon in the Seireitei."

"Oh. Any luck?" I already knew the answer, and Rukia's curt negative only confirmed my expectations. "Well, whatever. If it's important, they'll show up again."

"You would think," Rukia muttered. "It's a little strange; if more Shinigami were coming to Karakura Town, I should have gotten a notice."

"Maybe they forgot."

"I doubt it. Most of the updates are done automatically."

"A program?"

"Mm-hm."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Silence reigned for a few seconds as I tried and failed to keep a small smirk off my face.

"You don't actually know anything about it, do you?"

"Sh-shut up!" Rukia snapped, glancing at me, her face red. "Just because I'm not a know-it-all—"

"Hey! I'm not a know-it-all!"

"Who says I'm talking about you, idiot?" Rukia huffed, her attention going back to her Denreishinki.

"Then who—"

"Guys!" Kon shouted from the window, his face pressed against the window, one of his stuffed paws and its three felt claws waving to get our attention. I glanced at him.

"What is it, Kon?"

"You've got new neighbors!"

"Eh? Who are they?"

The little lion toy pressed his face even harder against the window. "Uh . . . some black-haired guy is talking to the moving people. He could be one of the ones you saw!"

"He could be," I agreed, not budging from my position on the bed. Kon, realizing this, jumped away from the window and landed on my stomach. I stared at him without moving my head, his felt face taking up a large portion of my field of vision.

"Why are you so calm about this? Shouldn't you go investigate? Blow them up? Demand answers? Both at the same time?!"

"They're most likely Shinigami, Kon. And they're not going anywhere or doing any harm. There's no problem with them staying there. Plus, if Kisuke hasn't done anything, they're probably harmless."

Switching track, Kon turned to Rukia. "Why are you not even remotely interested in this?" The Shinigami gave no immediate response. "Rukia! Aren't you—"

"Quiet, Kon," Rukia ordered, her gaze fixed back on her Denreishinki. Mouth agape, Kon obeyed, but not without muttering once he had recovered from his incredulity.

I glanced at him, smiling slightly in amusement before I stretched and sat up. If the timeline was still somewhat as it had been, there would be an assassin coming soon. If I was lucky, I would be able to get some answers this time and prevent the assassin from killing himself to avoid any questioning.

Finished with her Denreishinki, Rukia stood up and said that she was going to turn in for the night. I hummed acknowledgement and closed my eyes, content to simply lie down on my bed until the time came.

Kon was too riled up to sleep—a fact that he repeated more than once, much to my irritation—and I knew that he was keeping watch out the window.

A sudden pulse of Reiatsu from next door caught my attention and instantly I had separated from my body. Rukia was already phasing through my bedroom door.

"Ichigo!"

"It's next door," I said, turning with her and heading for my bedroom window. Once there, Rukia and I could see Kenryū on the roof of the house, one hand on his Zanpakutō as he looked around with a serious expression. Rukia glanced at me.

"His Reiatsu?" She queried. No doubt the nigh-undetectable barriers I had set up around my house to deter hollows were interfering (if only slightly) with her Reiatsu perception. While she was distracted, I easily liberated her of her Denreishinki; something told me I would need it later.

"Well," I replied, slipping the soul phone into a pocket and out of sight, "it isn't normal, no matter who it's coming from. Let's go."

Kon walked up to us just in time to receive a sandaled foot in the face as Rukia and I leaped outside.

I landed close enough to Kenryū that the bodyguard was forced to jump back, his footsteps almost silent on the tiled roof. Rukia landed nearby, her eyes hard. "Nowhere to run," she said, her tone carrying all the authority she had behind it. "Now start talking."

"Tell us what's going on here," I added. "Your Reiatsu has changed since earlier. I'm a substitute Shinigami and the guy that lives next door, so I can't just let that slide. Now—"

I was cut off as the odd Reiatsu that had mixed with Kenryū's suddenly spiked, accompanied by a collection of red spheres that glowed with bright light before shattering with the sound of breaking glass.

"The hell?" I said, grabbing the handle of Zangetsu.

"What is that?" Rukia asked.

Kenryū didn't reply and instead ran after the dark figure that was heading for the house. He didn't make it in time to stop the person and cursed as he followed the intruder inside. Rukia and I were a second behind him as we jumped into the house, but our vision was still obscured by darkness and the clouds of dust that were drifting through the air. Even so, I could see that the dark figure was crouched a few meters away.

"Who is this guy?" I asked. The bodyguard tensed and then glanced to one side, no doubt seeing Enryū and Rurichiyo running away.

He glanced back at me and I had to suppress the urge to sigh as I figured out what he was going to say. "Ichigo, I leave the rest to you."

With that, the Shinigami jumped out the window after his charge. Before I could pursue, a flash of light alerted me to the fact that the assassin was standing back up. He was clothed in a uniform vaguely reminiscent of the Onmitsukidō, with red accents on his shoulder and forehead. He had a blade on one hand with an oval mirror set near the hilt that gleamed in the moonlight.

"Alright then," I said, dismissing Kenryū, Enryū, and Rurichiyo from my mind for the time being, "who's this guy?"

"His uniform is similar, but he doesn't seem to be a part of the Onmitsukidō," Rukia noted.

The assassin jumped past Rukia and I and onto the roof and began running in pursuit of Rurichiyo.

"Hold it!" I yelled, chasing and managing to land in front of the assassin before he could even get to the end of the roof. Rukia was only a few steps behind me.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked, my cleaver gripped in both hands. Though I preferred dual wielding in shikai, I was still extraordinarily good at battling with just my cleaver. It wouldn't be a good idea to reveal my second sword unless I had to.

"He obviously intends to go after that girl and her men," Rukia stated, Sode no Shirayuki held in her hands.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" I growled, accenting the last two words with an overhead strike that would have split the assassin from head to waist had he not brought his blade up in a block. "What the hell do you want with that girl, bastard? Talk!"

I was just barely too slow to avoid the flash of light from the man's Bakkōtō and I ignored the derisive comments coming from my hollow Zanpakutō spirit. Rukia stepped in to help but she wasn't fast enough and only my reflexes saved me from getting my throat slit.

"Ichigo, what's wrong?" Rukia called, only to get blinded by the assassin's Zanpakutō as well.

"That's what's wrong," I muttered under my breath. In the moments that Rukia was blinded, I slipped into a series of Shunpo steps that the assassin couldn't follow and neatly knocked him out with a strike to the back of his neck. He collapsed face-first onto the roof.

"Rukia, can you bind him?" I asked as the petite Shinigami recovered. She blinked, evidently surprised, but nodded and cast several Bakudō to hold the assassin in place. "We'll need to figure out who sent him here," I continued. "And his sword . . . it's odd."

"It seems like it knocks the victim out for a second using the reflected light of the moon."

I nodded, pleased that Rukia was as perceptive as I remembered. "Yeah. You go find Rurichiyo; I'll ask this guy some questions and see what I can figure out."

Rukia gave me a measured look. "Are you sure? There is a chance my Bakudō could wear off."

"I'll be fine," I said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. With one last glance between the unconscious assassin and me, Rukia nodded and sped off to search for the missing bodyguards and Rurichiyo.

Meanwhile, I crouched down in front of the assassin and gingerly removed his Bakkōtō, setting the thing aside like it was poisonous (and really, it was). Then I slapped the assassin across the face.

His return to consciousness must not have been fun; I had already added several more Bakudō to him, one of which was a special one I learned from Yoruichi: it was designed to slowly become more painful and uncomfortable as time passed, and given the time frame I had, it was going to do so very quickly.

"You've got exactly two minutes to tell me everything," I said, casually reaching into my pocket and activating the "record" feature on Rukia's borrowed Denreishinki.

The assassin merely glared at me, his gaze occasionally flicking to the Bakkōtō a few meters away. I growled. "You're not getting that again." Still the assassin didn't speak, so I began crushing him with my Reiatsu and called on some of my hollow abilities. **"Talk."**

He was visibly struggling but whatever training he'd had went deep and with a frustrated sigh I realized that I wouldn't be getting anything out of him no matter what I tried. I just didn't have enough time.

"Dammit," I muttered, turning and dismissing the Bakudō I had put up. My Reiatsu had already weakened Rukia's and I took a few steps away from the assassin, pretending to be frustrated. While I waited for the assassin to realize he could get free I quickly deleted the recording and made sure that there was no evidence that I had tampered with Rukia's Denreishinki.

I sensed Rukia getting closer and in that moment the assassin made his move.

He broke the weakened Bakudō that held him and lunged for the Bakkōtō before leaping back to get some distance between us. The air instantly filled with tension that heightened with Rukia's arrival.

"The girl's name is Rurichiyo Kasumiōji. She and her men are right behind me," she said, only to freeze at the sight of the freed assassin. "Ichigo! I thought you said you could handle it!"

"He broke free, okay?" I replied, injecting a little bit of defensiveness into my voice and posture. "I don't know how to cast Bakudō!

Rukia sighed. "Fine, then. We'll just capture him again—"

The assassin, probably coming to the conclusion that the next battle would not end well for him, turned tail to flee.

"Oh, no you don't," I growled, charging a weaker Getsuga Tenshō and firing it with little difficulty. The blue crescent caught up to the assassin in moments but the man made no move to protect himself and even opened his guard to take the attack head-on.

The energy attack exploded on contact, completely vaporizing the assassin and sending the Bakkōtō flying.

I knew that the Kasumiōji assassins would probably recover the damn thing before Rukia or any of the Shinigami of the Gotei Thirteen had a chance to find it.

"Did he just . . . kill himself?" Rukia whispered, her eyes wide. The last particles of Reishi that had been the assassin dissipated, pulled apart by the atmosphere of the World of the Living.

"Yeah," I muttered, cursing myself mentally for forgetting that the assassins weren't as strong as my other enemies. Despite trying to compensate, I had still fired an attack strong enough to destroy an opponent that was not guarding himself.

And the assassin had intentionally lowered his defenses. Damn.

"I guess we won't be able to figure out who sent him," Rukia said with a short sigh. "Nevertheless, I believe we should be able to get some answers from Kenryū."

On cue, the black-haired Shinigami, his partner, and Rurichiyo all appeared on the roof, with Rurichiyo being carried by Enryū.

"You took care of the assassin I see," Kenryū noted, looking as calm as ever. His expression irritated me. "I have to compliment you on your—oof!" I couldn't resist the urge to send him sprawling. He shakily sat up, holding his face where a noticeable red footprint now sat. "W—why did you do that?"

"For turning tail and leaving us to do all your dirty work, dammit," I spat, clearly conveying my irritation. Rukia stepped in, her tone far more placating.

"Why don't you tell us what you've gotten us mixed up in," she suggested. Kenryū looked uncertain, but after a glance at Enryū he nodded.

"I'll call Orihime, Chad, and Uryū," I said. "There's a chance we might need their help."

* * *

"Hey, Kenryū! We need to talk! Open up!"

Kenryū's weird rainbow barrier—which had been re-erected after the previous assassination attempt—rejected my attempts to go through it. I could have broken in, but I got the feeling that the two bodyguards would not appreciate that no matter what my intentions were.

"Oi! Open up in there! C'mon, I know you can hear me!"

**_"Break down the door."_**

_"Knock harder."_

_Neither of you is helping._

"I know you're listening to me, now let me in!"

A minute later, a rather irate looking Kenryū finally let me in. "Your rudeness knows no bounds, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said, his voice laced with disapproval. "What do you want?"

I resisted the urge to scowl harder at him and instead made myself relax. "Well, you may want to call Enryū. And no Rurichiyo, if you get what I'm saying."

It turned out that Kenryū didn't have to do anything to get Enryū; the larger man practically appeared a moment later, getting _way_ too close for comfort as he peered at my face. Kenryū kindly gave me some advice.

"You should address her as _Lady _Rurichiyo, _substitute_ Shinigami."

This time I did scowl harder while I pushed Enryū away. "I'll keep that in mind. Where can we talk somewhere private?"

Kenryū and Enryū exchanged a slightly confused look (they evidently hadn't expected me to be so serious, which made sense because I had been acting far more normal for a teenage boy when there were others around) before leading me to a side room.

"Lady Rurichiyo shouldn't be able to hear us in here," Kenryū said shortly. "Now what was it that you wanted to tell us?"

"You can't let Rurichiyo into my school," I said shortly. "I know you plan to, and there's really no point. It just puts her in a more vulnerable position, not to mention the fact that you'll drag my friends into this mess, which I can't allow."

Kenryū was speechless and Enryū was rapidly waving his hands around.

"W—well, Lady Rurichiyo needs to know about the World of the Living!" Kenryū replied. "As her bodyguards, it's our duty to educate her, and attending your human school is a perfect opportunity!"

"Rurichiyo looks like a middle-school kid and you two wouldn't even blend in as college students," I said shortly. Putting things gently really wasn't my strong suit. "Plus, you're both about as subtle as freight trains and Rurichiyo has the manners of someone from the eighteenth century. It wouldn't work, not to mention that it will make Rurichiyo stand out."

"You will address her as Lady Rurichiyo!" Kenryū snapped.

"Give it up already!"

"I shall not! You will address her with the proper amount of respect!"

"Tch," I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Idiot. Just don't enroll her in the school; my friends and I can teach her about the World of the Living just fine."

"And exactly _how _are we supposed to entertain Lady Rurichiyo in the meantime?"

I shrugged. "Not my problem. I can skip school once, but my teacher's been getting on my case about it lately-" _that_ was a blatant lie, "so I can't do it any more than that, got it? You've got this entire house; there has to be something safe that you can do."

"W-well," Kenryū muttered, "there were several board games stashed in one of the cabinets."

I mentally pumped a fist. Keeping the Kasumiōji crew at their house had been a gamble and one that had fortunately paid off. As long as Rurichiyo didn't do anything dumb and spoiled, of course. Which she probably would if I tried to keep this up for too long.

_Damn._

Well, I had two days. One at the very least.

"I'll take her around Karakura Town tomorrow," I said. I'd already talked with Rukia about it. "And . . . teach her about the World of the Living."

Kenryū stared at me and abruptly got far too close. I leaned back, bracing a hand against the ground to stop myself from falling over. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kenryū's eyes narrowed. "You're acting differently."

"No shit! Maybe it's because you're literally in my face!"

The Shinigami bodyguard made no move to back away. "That may be so, but there's something else. How old are you?"

"S-sixteen, now get out of my face, dammit!"

"Oh," Kenryū said as though my answer explained everything. In an instant he was back where he had been before and I suddenly had breathing room. "You simply appear to be too old for that age," he explained, pulling out a biology textbook and paging through it. "You're remarkably mature from what I can tell, though some of the psychological studies from our other books from the World of the Living would be more accurate—"

My eyebrow twitched with annoyance and I batted the book out of his hands. "You're weird! Stop! I'm leaving!"

I didn't stop for long enough to be bombarded by Kenryū or Enryū's weirdness again and I only barely paused to throw up a stronger barrier around their house. It shimmered briefly before vanishing, through I was careful to make sure that Kenryū, Enryū, and Rurichiyo would be capable of leaving.

It would be difficult to explain to them what was going on if they couldn't.

* * *

"Can you sense where Rurichiyo went?" I asked Rukia. The petite Shinigami shook her head, frowning.

"No. That veil of hers almost completely hides her Reiatsu. I can't feel her presence at all."

"Damn," I cursed, looking around Karakura Town. Even with my improved Reiatsu sense, I was having difficulty. All I knew was that Rurichiyo wasn't dead, but with the way she stormed off after getting mad at Kenryū and Enryū, she could have been anywhere. I sighed. "This is what I get for making her eat carrots."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ichigo," Rukia said. "True, it is your fault, but Lady Rurichiyo's guardians share some of the blame."

"I could tell," I muttered, recalling how Kenryū and Enryū had moped in a corner until Karin and Yuzu had told us about how Rurichiyo had disappeared. "Anyway, this is a pain. There's gotta be some faster way of finding her."

"All we can do is search," Rukia said diplomatically.

Suddenly, a burst of foreign Reiatsu caused both Rukia and I to freeze.

"Who is that?" Rukia asked, turning to face the direction it had come from.

"I don't recognize it," I added. Another Reiatsu, one that I _did_ recognize, then flared higher. "Orihime! Let's go, Rukia!"

"Right!"

We sped through Karakura, though I had to consciously limit my speed so that Rukia could keep up. By the time we got to the small park area where Rurichiyo and Orihime were, Kenryū and Enryū had already arrived.

Kenryū glared at me from his position of kneeling by Rurichiyo, who was still hugging Enryū. "You're late, Ichigo."

"What happened?" Asked Rukia before I could say anything. It was Orihime who answered while pointing to the man standing some ways away on a pile of weird rocks.

"Over there!" She said. My eyes narrowed.

"Looks like another assassin."

"Be on your guard," Rukia advised.

"Of course," I replied as we drew our swords and leaped at the attacker, whose oddly shaped weapon appeared to be some kind of shortened spear with a wide blade that had several strange markings and protrusions coming off of it.

He met me in the air, his weapon giving him a longer reach that forced me to leap back for a moment. I grit my teeth, annoyed that I had an audience. I trusted Rukia and Orihime, but I didn't want to reveal the true extent of my abilities, not yet. Especially with Kenryū and Enryū so close; I didn't want them to think I was all-powerful.

Rukia followed up my attack and the assassin was forced to block. Rukia glanced at the area where the assassin's hand appeared to be inside the strange weapon before she too was forced back. She jumped to where I was, and we stood in the air, looking up at the assassin.

"Be careful, Ichigo," Rukia said, holding Sode no Shirayuki—still unreleased—in front of her. "He might use another one of those strange techniques."

On cue, the assassin slashed his strange weapon twice, sending green curtains of energy at Rukia and I. Gritting my teeth, I brought my blade up to block, knowing that if I didn't there was a chance that Rurichiyo could get hit. The wave pushed me all the way back to the ground before it abruptly solidified into rock.

"The hell?" I cursed, tugging on Zangetsu. I could hear my Zanpakutō spirits—at least, the Quincy one—chastising me in my head for forgetting about the solidification detail, though with Rurichiyo behind me there had been little other choice than to block the attack. "Rukia, what's going on?"

"It's some kind of technique that converts a blade attack into walls!" Rukia tugged on her Zanpakutō, trying to free it from the trap. I did the same, not sure of how much strength I had to put into tugging to free my Zanpakutō.

While Rukia and I were preoccupied, I saw the assassin leap past us. Soon after, I could hear Kenryū's voice.

"Bloom in glory, Benishidare!"

_Right. The super lame Zanpakutō._

"What is that?" I called, looking at Kenryū. "Some kind of joke?!"

_It has to be, right? I mean, what would his bankai do? Create a _field_ of flowers?_

**_"Probably. It's stupid. Not even good for fightin."_**

_"You should not be so critical. It is a good ability for a bodyguard."_

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

"It's no joke," Kenryū said. "Observe."

I glanced over to the assassin and saw that pink flowers were blooming all over his weapon. The assassin looked pretty surprised, to say the least.

"My Benishidare's pollen will create flower blossoms on any weapon it touches, rendering it completely useless!"

"You couldn't come up with anything more badass?" I muttered.

"So cool!" Orihime gushed, clearly of the complete opposite opinion.

"Are we looking at the same thing?" Rukia asked her, appearing to be as unimpressed as I was with Kenryū's Zanpakutō.

"You have an opening, Ichigo!" Kenryū called. "Do it!"

"Right." Grabbing Zangetsu, I quickly channeled a bit of power to the blade. "Getsuga Tenshō!"

Meanwhile, Rukia used Kidō to free her blade. "Sōkatsui!"

The two blasts of power obliterated the two walls, creating quite a bit of wind as they did so.

"Wait!" Kenryū yelled. "Don't—urgh!" He had to shield himself from the dust flying through the air.

I strode out of the smoke, Zangetsu propped on one shoulder. "All right you masked bastard, tell us who the hell ordered you here." I abruptly realized that the previously helpless assassin now had Kenryū, Enryū, and Rurichiyo at his mercy. "Wait, what the hell happened to you people? Kenryū, what about your weird flower power?"

"You just blew away all of the pollen! My Benishidare only works if there's a large cloud of pollen surrounding the enemy!"

"That's unfortunate," Rukia observed while walking up beside me.

"More like stupid," I muttered under my breath. "It's even more lame the second time around."

Luckily, Rukia didn't hear my second comment.

"However," Kenryū added, bringing his sword down and placing one hand on the blade near the hilt. "There is a plan B."

With an overly exaggerated motion, the odd Shinigami bodyguard swept his hand down the blade, pushing off the seven flowers on it in the process. The blossoms promptly attached to the assassin's face, over his eyes.

"All right!" Kenryū said, looking entirely too proud of himself. "I've blinded him." He and Enryū—who had picked up Rurichiyo—turned and ran. "Let's go!" He called back one last thing over his shoulder. "You take it from here!"

Rukia and I exchanged another unimpressed look.

"Did that really just happen?" I asked. Rukia shrugged.

The assassin, while trying to rip the pink flower from his face, released two more energy blasts that Rukia and I were forced to dodge.

**_"Pretty pathetic energy attacks."_**

I agreed with Zangetsu. "You're doing it all wrong!" I yelled at the assassin, who had finally managed to free his vision. "This is what a real attack looks like! Getsuga Tenshō!"

The blue blast (now properly scaled down, unlike the last time) caught the assassin dead on, and when the dust cleared the man fell to his knees, completely out of energy. Rukia was already there, her blade at his throat.

"End of the line," she said coldly. "Now talk. On whose orders were you sent here to kill Lady Rurichiyo?"

The assassin merely narrowed his eyes and before I could shout a warning or even try a Bakudō he released a blast of energy, forcing Rukia away from him. He then launched an attack at me, buying himself a second.

"Don't!" I yelled, about to launch after him, but I was too late—the assassin plunged his weapon into the wall he had created and collapsed it on himself.

"Dammit," I growled once the dust had cleared. "We lost another one."

"I guess this is just how they operate," Rukia said.

We made our way over to where Kenryū, Enryū, and Rurichiyo were waiting.

"Sir Kenryū, are you all right?" Asked Rukia. He nodded.

"Yes. Ichigo Kurosaki, you did surprisingly well. You have our thanks."

_Doesn't he sound grateful?_

**_"Definitely."_**

"Hey, Rurichiyo, are you all right?" I looked at the Kasumiōji heiress, seeing an odd expression on her face before it cleared and she turned around, smiling as she began to walk away.

"Yes, I am fine because I have Kenryū and Enryū to protect me." The two guardians looked surprised and quite pleased at her words. "Now let us return home and eat a warm meal," Rurichiyo finished before Kenryū or Enryū could say anything. Her voice, though it seemed normal enough, sounded a little smug to me. "Do not worry—I will make sure to eat all of my carrots. If I did not, it would be an insult to the farmers that grew them, would it not?"

I ignored the subsequent waterworks from Kenryū and Enryū. "Hurry up, you three, or we'll leave you behind." I looked at Orihime. "By the way, are you okay?"

She nodded, smiling brightly enough to dispel the darkness of the last hour. "Of course!"

* * *

_A/N Not the best, not the worst. Yes, I screwed with the timeline a little. Yes, I will be changing something drastically in the future._

_Reviews:_

_JJN37: I wouldn't be able to maintain an update schedule that was less than once a month. Hell, I struggle with it anyway. My inspiration for writing this story comes in short, very unpredictable bursts._

_clw123cat: Quincy arc won't be in this story. I don't know if I'll get around to any of the movies at this point. My free time has taken a dive as of late._

_StarGoldFang: I don't know enough about how Yoruichi does that to write that into this story. Plus, it might be unique to her; either way, that won't be happening here, though it's an interesting idea._

_jcampbellohten: Yeah, Ichigo may have been slightly OOC last chapter. My bad. As for the arm guards, I really just made them to help Ichigo look kickass. But they can be used for those other two purposes too._

_blarg7865: I'm not!_

_Dragonblaze66: No, I'm not talented enough to draw the Ichigo in this story. But I'm sure there's someone out there who can. *looks at other readers with hopeful gaze*_

_jackalopian: The Old Man was merely pointing out that Ichigo's solution will still leave him with long-lasting psychological damage. Without proper therapy, Ichigo probably will never recover from his experience in the war._

_lovemagi101: Ichigo's friends will be finding out eventually._

_Seikyuna Shojikina: I'm not sure what you're expecting Kisuke to do; whatever it is, knowing him, he's probably already done it._

_I don't even have the next chapter started. Curse you, writer's block._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Quick summary: _**_Ichigo stopped and killed Aizen in Soul Society, stopped the Arrancar in Hueco Mundo (killing the ones that wouldn't stay out of serious trouble), and then did some soul-searching. We're now in the middle of the Kasumiōji arc, and Ichigo's already dealt with the first attack against Rurichiyo or however you spell her name._

_This chapter fought me. I HATE writer's block. I had this great plan for this chapter, and then I just couldn't write it, so I ended up skipping around. Apologies for the delay; I wanted to have this up two days ago but it just didn't work out._

* * *

Chapter 11

I paced back and forth in my room, expression alternating between a scowl and a slightly darker scowl. The past two days had been hectic, made even more so by the attack by Hanza, the head assassin for the Kasumiōji. Or, more accurately, Kumoi. Rurichiyo had escaped during that time, going to what amounted to a farewell party for her friend. Luckily, Kumoi hadn't really made his move at that point and Rukia and I had brought Rurichiyo back to the World of the Living with little difficulty.

Of course, now most of the staff in the Kasumiōji compound didn't like me because I broke into the area to try to stop the assassin-disguised-as-a-girl-through-methods-I-still-didn't-understand from stabbing Rurichiyo only for Kenpachi to beat me to it. How the giant of a man did that was beyond me, but there were some things I did not feel like questioning, Kenpachi's terrible yet incredible timing being one of them.

If memory served, the next incident would be when Hanza attacked again with his three accomplices. I had no idea what I was going to do about that; I could allow myself to get trapped in that weird Bakkōtō's mirror technique, but I really didn't want to. There were some experiences I could not endure twice over.

So, I could probably just kick Hanza's ass and see if I could stop the guy from killing himself.

But that would open up an entirely new can of worms. I knew that Hanza didn't respect Rurichiyo to point where he thought that she was a strong enough leader to head the Kasumiōji. That had been why he'd served Kumoi, but if I could make him understand that Rurichiyo was actually far stronger than she first appeared . . .

"Dammit, this is complicated!" I growled, knotting my hands in my hair and casting my gaze to the ceiling. "How the hell is anyone supposed to keep all that's happened straight in their head?"

**_"Ya seem like ya got a problem, King."_**

_I do. I'm supposed to be from the future and have some kind of plan, or at least have my shit together._

I could hear laughter in my head and grit my teeth.

**_"King, I've known ya since ya were born and there hasn't been a single damn time you've really had your shit together!"_**

_Oh, shut up, Zangetsu. It's not like you're helping me._

**_"Just kick his ass."_**

_That wouldn't help anything._

**_"But it would be satisfying as hell."_**

They probably heard my sigh next door, and I threw one arm over my face, shielding my eyes while trying to think. It would be for the best if the fights played out as they had before; my friends had all gotten stronger because of them, though—

"Dammit," I cursed, dropped my arm back to my side and sitting up straight. "They never went to Hueco Mundo!"

Which meant, of course, that Rukia, Chad, and Uryū weren't as strong as they were supposed to be in this timeline. Since that was the case, there was a chance they wouldn't have the skill set to handle their opponents. And if that happened, I would have serious trouble, especially since their opponents would have no problem with killing them.

"Um, Ichigo? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Kon," I sighed, glancing at the plush lion. "Just thinking to myself."

"About Hueco Mundo? Isn't that the place where hollows live? Why that?"

"I think I heard Kisuke mention it a while ago," I answered, trying to keep my evasive answers sounding like the lazy answers of a teenage boy. Kon bought it after a second and I let out a mental sigh of relief as the mod soul dropped the subject.

"So, Ichigo, where's Rukia? Isn't she living here?"

"She is," I said, raising an eyebrow. "She's in the room across the hall. Didn't you know that?"

"Why isn't she in your closet again?" Kon complained. "She was closer!"

My face flushed red despite my best efforts. "Why would I have her in my closet again when there's a perfectly good room over there? That's just stupid!"

"But Rukia—"

"It's not happening, you little pervert! I know you just want to look at her."

Kon pouted but didn't refute my accusation. "Fine. But where is she now? I wanted to fall into her loving, open arms!"

"Don't take that daydream any further," I cautioned, warily watching the perverted spark in Kon's eyes. "Anyway, she's off patrolling. That afro guy can only do so much—" my voice dropped to a mutter—"and he's kind of a weakling, anyway."

"When's she gonna be back?"

"I don't know. Stop whining."

"I'm not whining!"

"Stop pining."

"I'm not—wait, pining? What's that even mean?"

I ignored Kon, pleased that I had found a word the mod soul didn't recognize, at least not immediately. "Go wait for her or something. I've gotta go check something out."

"Where're you going? Ichigo, don't just leave!"

"Watch me," I said over my shoulder as I left my room.

Maybe Yoruichi would be around to help in case of an emergency.

* * *

"And that's how it is," I finished.

Yoruichi tilted her head slightly, one eyebrow going up while a smirk curled her lips. "What, you're finally asking for help, Ichigo? Couldn't you have waited just a little longer? I had a bet going with Kisuke."

I stared flatly at her for a solid minute, knowing about but unable to help the twitch in my eye.

The Flash Goddess let out a laugh, her eyes glittering. "Relax, Ichigo. Of course I'll help you, and I'm sure the kids would too." She paused, shooting me a considering look. "After this, do you want us to train them?"

I hesitated. My first response—the knee-jerk reaction pulled from my core that always came up when someone else could be in danger—was a solid, resounding _no_. I didn't want my friends getting into too much trouble. Soul Society was one thing, but with what happened next—

_"If you say no, your friends will be put in greater danger."_

**_"If they aren't strong, ya idiot, how will they fight? Think these things through!"_**

A sigh escaped my lips. That was the crux of it; if I tried to pretend like I could actually keep my friends out of trouble, they would get seriously hurt when trouble did find them.

I wanted to protect them. I wanted to keep them away from harm, out of the line of fire, whatever the hell came up. I wanted them safe, and happy, and blissfully ignorant of all the shit going down in the afterlife.

But that wasn't realistic.

Uryū was a Quincy, as much of a protector of the living as I was.

Chad and I made a promise, and neither one of us was willing to break it.

Orihime was determined to show her own strength and stand by us.

There was simply no way for me to push them away, not when they would inevitably get dragged back in. Opponents in the future would probably figure out my connections with them and then use them as targets and hostages, and that would hurt worse than them fighting beside me.

In the end, I really only had one choice, and though it pained me, in my heart I knew it was the right one.

"Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Yoruichi."

"It's not a problem." She frowned, looking deep into my eyes, and I had to stifle the urge to shift uncomfortably. "Is something the matter, Ichigo? You look like you haven't been getting much sleep."

"I'm fine," I said with a shrug, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Really, my nightmares had been making sleep almost impossible, but they didn't need to know that. I'd gone longer without sleep, anyway. "Really, I am. I've just got a lot I need to do."

Like going to Soul Society and getting this Kasumiōji business done and over with, for one.

Yoruichi didn't look convinced, but she was apparently willing to let it go for now. "If you say so. I'll keep an eye on your friends, and you can go do whatever it is that you've got planned."

The unasked question hung in the air.

"I'm going to Soul Society," I said after a beat. "I think I know how to resolve this issue without everything blowing up in my face. Kind of."

"You've sparked my interest. What are you planning?"

"I'm sure you'll hear about it soon enough."

She raised an eyebrow. I relented. Somewhat.

"I'm going to find Kenpachi."

Realization dawned on Yoruichi's face. "I see." She swallowed. "Just . . . try not to destroy _all_ of the Seireitei on your rampage, okay? There are still some places I like to visit there. Stay away from the Second Division barracks."

I gave a mock solute, grinning slightly. "You got it."

"Oh, Ichigo."

"Yeah?"

Yoruichi tilted her head a little, a strange expression crossing her face that I couldn't identify. "Kisuke already had me investigate the Kasumiōji. Once you do whatever it is that you're planning to do, I'm assuming you want the Gotei Thirteen to seal the deal, correct?"

"That would definitely help. I hadn't really thought that far."

She smirked, that strange expression gone without a trace. "Of course not. Well then, get a move on."

* * *

My sandaled feet were nearly silent against the wood floor when I landed, but the only other occupant of the large room looked up anyway, probably sensing me through other means. Yamamoto was the Head Captain for a reason, after all.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he rumbled, setting down his pen and getting to his feet, eyes trained on me. "What brings you to my office uninvited?"

I could hear the reprimand clearly and offered a shrug in apology. I couldn't exactly call ahead and say, "Yeah, so I have some knowledge from the future about your new captain who's gonna turn traitor in a day or two and try to kill Yamamoto to avenge his father so if you could just let me through that'd be great."

"I needed to warn you," I said simply.

Yamamoto's eyebrows drew together and his displeasure became even more obvious. "Warn me about what, boy?"

**_"Rude, ain't he?"_**

_Shut up. I'm trying to be respectful and channel the _other_ Zangetsu._

**_"Rude, aintcha?"_**

_Shut up._

"Your newest captain has an ulterior motive," I explained, keeping my voice level and my expression clear. "Captain Amagai is planning on using the power of the Bakkōtō to avenge his father, Shin'etsu Kisaragi, by defeating you."

If Yamamoto's displeasure was obvious before, now it was suffocating. I struggled to keep my expression neutral in the face of it for a moment before Zangetsu reminded me that it was Reiatsu I was feeling, not just the glare being leveled at me through almost-closed eyes. My own Reiatsu rose and I could breath easy again.

"How do you know those names?"

I blinked. "I can't tell you that yet."

Yamamoto's cane slammed into the floor. The harsh noise reverberated about the room, punctuating the sudden, tense silence. I held out for almost half a minute before I relented. I needed Yamamoto to trust me, after all.

"I honestly cannot tell you my exact sources. However, I'm the only person that knows this information, save for the pieces held by you and Captain Amagai. I have no intention of sharing it with anyone else, and it's yours to do with what you wish."

Yamamoto regarded me for a minute that seemed to stretch on for infinity. I found myself hoping that the incredibly old Shinigami would see the sense in not pressing for details.

After the agonizingly long minute, Yamamoto's eyes slowly opened. They fixed on me and an involuntary chill ran down my spine. There was truly no way to describe the knowledge and power that lurked in his eyes, so I didn't bother attempting to examine it and focused on meeting his gaze as evenly as possible.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you come to my offices without forewarning or permission, bearing news of events you should have no knowledge of, while directing suspicion at the newest elected captain. Yet you refuse to provide where you obtained that information, and defer to my judgment with almost no explanation."

"Uh . . ." I scratched the back of my neck out of sheer nervous habit and dropped my arm immediately upon noticing that I was doing it. "Yeah, pretty much."

Yamamoto blinked—still so slowly, and for some reason I got the impression that, had the Head Captain been anyone else, he would've been heaving a great sigh.

"Am I correct in assuming that you have already made plans to counter the return of the Bakkōtō?"

"Yeah."

"Am I also correct in assuming that your plans are likely foolhardy and rash?"

"Y—wait, what?"

Yamamoto's eyes slid shut again. "You are still young."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't elaborate. Of _course_ he didn't elaborate. What would be the fun in making sense?

"Do not cause unnecessary damage to my divisions," Yamamoto warned.

I thought about my plan—Kenpachi's bloodthirsty grin came to mind immediately—and decided that no, Yamamoto did not need to know the details until it was too late to stop me.

Then I frowned. "Hold on a second. You _know_ about the Bakkōtō that the Kasumiōji are producing right now?"

"I am the Head Captain of the Gotei Thirteen and have been for hundreds of years. Nothing so large as an entire conspiracy can slip from my notice."

"Then why haven't you done anything? There's a little girl out there that's being targeted for assassination!"

"You are still too young."

"Don't say that like it's a reason not to explain it to me!"

"It is because I am the Head Captain that I cannot interfere in the affairs of the Noble Houses. If you have knowledge of Shin'etsu Kisaragi, then you should know that I made an attempt in the past and lost a seated officer as a result."

I swallowed.

My hollow Zanpakutō's disdainful snort of **_"Politics."_** summed up my feelings on the matter quite nicely.

Yamamoto sat back down, catching my attention once more. "I will take steps to prevent Captain Amagai from doing anything rash in his quest for revenge."

It was a dismissal, but also a message; _I cannot interfere in the matters of the Kasumiōji, but, as a Substitute Shinigami, you're free to screw shit up._

Or something like that.

"One last thing," I said before leaving. "The third seat in that division's also got a Bakkōtō. That's enough evidence, right?"

And then I left before I actually had to explain anything, because explaining things sucked.

_I'm starting to see why Kisuke avoids giving details._

**_"Understanding Kisuke? Scary thought."_**

_"Indeed."_

* * *

I walked through the Seireitei, ignoring the looks of the nobles and Shinigami that I passed. My orange hair was pretty distinctive and after the events of Aizen's betrayal, I was a well-known figure in Soul Society and, though the stares were annoying, I was not willing to go through the effort of hiding my hair.

But if _one more person_ came up to me to ask me questions, I was going to have difficulty keeping my annoyance in check.

Speaking of which, another Shinigami that clearly hadn't even achieved shikai was trailing me again. I didn't even turn around before I used Shunpo to leave the more crowded areas. Once I was in the air, I looked around and squinted at the barracks that I could see. There was one in particular that I was looking for, one that should be plenty obvious.

I found the Division quickly enough and dropped to the ground nearby, the sounds of combat already reaching my ears. I paused just outside the gates and raised an eyebrow at the sight of a bruised and battered Shinigami getting his ass handed to him by another Shinigami who looked equally bruised and battered. The first Shinigami finally fell, knocked unconscious by a powerful blow to his head. The second Shinigami shouted his triumph, only to be beset by another opponent a moment later.

"Yo, Ichigo!"

A bright flash of reflected light drew my attention to Ikkaku's shiny head and then to the man himself. "Hey, Ikkaku."

The warrior stopped a meter or so away, seemingly unmindful of the cuts and bruises that decorated his skin. He held Hōzukimaru slung over his shoulders, looping his arms over the sheathed blade. He must have just won a fight, otherwise he wouldn't have broken off the battle to greet me. The Eleventh Division didn't work that way.

He cocked his head. "What're ya doing here, Ichigo? Not that I mind your being here, but you never really come around often."

"I came for a spar," I replied. Ikkaku laughed.

"Man, I've been waitin' for way too long to hear you say those words."

I grinned at the way Ikkaku was preparing himself for the fight that wasn't going to happen. "Sorry, Ikkaku, but I'm not here to spar with you."

"Eh?"

"I want to fight Kenpachi."

The entire courtyard went silent as hundreds of Shinigami stopped their fights to stare at me in disbelief. I glanced past Ikkaku and saw every single member of the Eleventh Division that had been brawling staring at me, frozen in various (and a few ridiculous) combat poses. More than a few mouths were hanging open and in the sudden silence I could have heard a pin drop.

"H-he wants to challenge our captain?"

"Is he insane?"

"Quiet, you idiots!" Ikkaku snapped, instantly shutting up the two unseated Shinigami that had spoken. He turned back to me and grinned while relaxing his stance. "So that's how you want it, huh?"

"Yeah."

A sudden, looming presence abruptly filled the courtyard. Kenpachi Zaraki's voice drifted across the air, sending most of the unranked Shinigami into a mild panic. Their captain was not known for being kind, though they managed to keep it mostly together. It probably came from experience.

"Hey, is that Ichigo's voice I'm hearin'? 'Cause it sounds like 'im. Ikkaku!"

Ikkaku straightened and turned to where his captain was stepping out of the barracks, Yachiru clinging to his shoulder and smiling brightly, a stark contrast to the menacing expression that almost always covered Kenpachi's face.

"Yes, Captain! Ichigo's here!" He glanced back at me, raising one eyebrow. "What changed?"

I felt my respect for Ikkaku rise a little. He didn't bother asking, "are you sure?" or, "why are you doing this?" He simply asked what changed, and that was an entirely different question.

I grinned, cracking my knuckles. "My instincts."

Ikkaku returned my grin with one that was even more bloodthirsty. "Nicely said. Fight well, you idiot."

"You should notify the Fourth in advance," I said mildly, stepping past Ikkaku and entering the Eleventh Division barracks proper. Ikkaku snorted.

"Why? Unless you think you're going to win or lose that quickly, 'course."

"Not for me or Kenpachi," I said, glancing at the trembling Shinigami that were no doubt feeling the killing intent permeating the air. "For them."

Realization and understanding dawned on Ikkaku, and he nodded. "Yeah, I'll be back. Yumichika! Where the hell are you?"

"So, you came out of hiding," Kenpachi said, walking up to me. He was still almost a head taller than me, but our heights were not nearly as different as they had been. And for some reason, I couldn't match up the Kenpachi from our first ever meeting with the one that was standing before me now; the intimidation and fear that had filled my mind during that first battle was gone now.

I no longer feared Kenpachi.

The realization brought a far more savage expression to my face and I drew my Zanpakutō—but only the cleaver. This fight had a purpose, though I did plan on enjoying it, so I couldn't pull out both swords just yet. I wasn't going to release my bankai in a battle that wasn't extremely important, either.

"Who says I was hiding?" I asked, raising my Reiatsu. Kenpachi began to smile, a dangerous fire burning in his visible eye.

"Heh. So you're not a complete wimp. That's good." His Reiatsu rose as well and the stones near us began to crack.

"Th-this is going to get ugly," someone whispered, and almost as though the words were a signal, the nearby Shinigami cleared out. Ikkaku and Yumichika were already gone, but I knew they would be back in short order. Neither of them was willing to miss this fight.

"Considering I kicked your ass in our first fight, you're not the one who should be concerned about that."

_**"Liar. You're the one that got your ass kicked."**_

_Shut up._

"Tch. Enough talk. Yachiru, go watch."

"You got it, Kenny!"

The bubbly and only slightly homicidal lieutenant hopped off her captain's shoulder and quickly took up observation from a relatively safe distance. Kenpachi glanced over at her to make sure she wouldn't be in the line of fire and then looked back at me, his grin firmly in place. And then, with blinding speed, he drew his Zanpakutō and struck.

The shockwave produced when our swords met was enough to send the nearest Shinigami tumbling back.

We exchanged a lightning-quick volley of attacks, sparks flying and winds whipping with every glancing blow. Every strike that I was forced to block instead of deflect sent vibrations up my arm, but I ignored the strain and pushed back, stepping forward instead of backward.

"Good, good!" Kenpachi laughed, the power behind his sword swings increasing even more. I grinned in turn, ducking under a swipe and stepping past Kenpachi's guard, bringing my free hand back and throwing a jab at Kenpachi's stomach.

Kenpachi caught my fist, his grip almost crushing my fingers, and threw me hard enough that I was helpless for almost an entire second before I could move and slow myself down.

The captain was on me again in an instant, a manic light shining in his eyes, and I defended against attacks that left the wall I'd nearly crashed into nothing but rubble. My right arm was beginning to go numb so I reinforced it with Reiatsu and pushed Kenpachi back, using the opportunity to jump over the remains of the wall.

Using the brief moment of respite, I called up a mental map of Seireitei and oriented myself, adjusting my feet slightly and angling my body in the direction I wanted to go.

When Kenpachi struck again, I let myself get pushed back, again and again, over and over.

Quickly realizing that I wasn't putting up a fight, Kenpachi switched tactics; he sprinted around me, sword aimed for my legs. When I jumped, he hit me hard in the chest, sending me flying.

I could hear my Zanpakutō spirits commenting on Kenpachi's physical strength and tuned them out, knowing that I needed to focus. Kenpachi wouldn't be satisfied with an opponent that merely went with the flow of the fight and didn't actively try to change it. I needed to act, not just react.

Luckily, I was already almost a quarter of the way to my destination. Kenpachi had hit me pretty far before he realized what I was—or wasn't—doing.

"Come on, Ichigo! I know you're stronger than this!"

Kenpachi hurtled towards me with all the force of a speeding train and I had my sword up and legs braced before I even fully processed the manic grin decorating the captain's face.

He slammed into me and I skidded back, pushing though some of the new rubble that our fight had created.

Another lightning-quick series of attacks, blocked and parried and deflected and countered, swords flashing in the light, bright enough to blind the unwary.

Sword against sword—a contest of strength now, pushing against each other, grins on our faces and the thrum of adrenaline increasing my awareness tenfold.

Muscles straining, blade surprisingly steady against Kenpachi's, meeting and countering his incredible might.

Laughter—not from me, not yet, but from Kenpachi, from a man finding enjoyment in the adrenaline-fueled euphoria filling both of us. I broke the contest of strength by driving my foot into Kenpachi's knee. There was no satisfying crack but it unbalanced him and in that brief moment I darted forward, up, and around in a complex series of Shunpo steps, moving so fast that I knew to the untrained eye I merely disappeared.

My blade arced, coming down viciously, only to be blocked by Kenpachi's sword. He'd switched to a reverse grip, and as I watched he removed his eye patch.

The abrupt release of so much Reiatsu forced me back several meters but in response my own awareness rose, not forcing me into tunnel vision so much as tuning out the unimportant distractions. Onlookers faded from my notice, taking with them their comments and terrified expressions. Kenpachi and his sword took priority and in that moment I knew, with the strange clarity that I had only ever found in the midst of battle, that I had missed this.

Not the death, not the desperation, not the mindless hacking and slicing at innumerable hollows, but _this_. The challenge, the breath of fresh air, the complete immersion into a battle that left me clearheaded and almost giddy from a potent mix of bloodlust and savagery; nothing could ever compare.

I nearly forgot what I had begun this fight for.

And still the fight continued. As it wore on I found myself sinking into it more and more, losing a piece of myself in the process—no, trading a piece of myself for another. Time slowed even more and I saw Kenpachi's strikes long before he made them, reacting with demonic speed and scoring several cuts and slashes on the captain for my efforts.

He was saying something, but I had automatically deemed it irrelevant after the first word and though I said something in return, I could not recall it even a moment later.

Time shifted again, now following my heartbeat, letting me pull the strings of the fight with every pulse of life in my veins.

Zangetsu was no longer a sword in my hand; there was no point at which my limb stopped and the sword began. Our communication was instant and wordless, his edge never dulled even for a split second.

Now pushing Kenpachi back, through another division's grounds, not even paying enough attention to do any more than orient myself. The background was just that, little more than shadows and muted noises.

My blade caught in his palm—he didn't even seem to care that his hand oozed crimson—almost yanked from my grasp but I rode the momentum, kicking him hard in the stomach and successfully freeing my weapon. He crashed through several walls and I gave chase, left hand twitching and inching towards the second blade sheathed at my waist of its own volition.

I didn't draw it. Not yet, just a little longer now. Patience.

Kenpachi's sword bit at my legs and I leaped over it, bringing Zangetsu down on the back of his head. He tilted his head just enough to avoid being decapitated and we locked swords again, me in mid air and him planted firmly on the ground, as unshakeable as a mountain.

A memory—

_A hollow, tall enough to dwarf Jidanbō, its fist bearing down on me—_

Back to the present, Kenpachi's fist heading for my stomach and a split second decision forcing me down to his level, sword coming up to block the follow-up and other blade drawn in sheer reflex, darting out, a snake striking, but Kenpachi twisted out of the way and it went through his haori instead of his flesh, tearing the white fabric.

Then Kenpachi grabbed my wrist and twisted, hurtling me through the air. I crashed through a wall before stopping in front of a building, the dust and mortar and brick raining down. It did nothing to slow the battle and one of the falling bricks was bisected by my sword and Kenpachi's as we clashed again, the shockwave instantly clearing the air but destabilizing the entire building.

It began to collapse and I darted among the falling debris, using my environment and kicking falling objects at Kenpachi while also darting in to strike at his unprotected weak points—

Except he wasn't relying on vision, or hearing, or any other sense besides touch in that moment and at the very last second, right as the edge of my sword touched his skin he twisted, ignoring the shallow cut and forcing me on the defensive for nearly ten seconds.

But my heart was still pumping a staccato rhythm in my chest and I reached for the mindset I knew I still had even after months without stepping foot in Hueco Mundo.

The world seemed to grow cold as my body numbed, the aches and strange tingling in my fingers and arms fading out of my awareness. My stance shifted almost imperceptibly but now I could _move_. The world wouldn't blur because everything was in such clear, crystal focus, so sharp it was almost painful.

And I did move, darting forward and slicing Kenpachi across the chest, then his back, then his forearm, leg, shoulder, hand, moving so dizzyingly quickly that my mind stretched and pounded from the strain of keeping it all straight.

But it was perfect. Zangetsu laughed like a madman, his ecstasy my own, and even his Quincy half thrummed with pleasure because they made up my swords, two perfect blades that cut the very air they passed through.

This, this, _this. _How could I ever have forgotten this feeling, this rush? So exhilarating, almost intoxicating, bringing me ever closer to the brink of—

_Screams, tearing through the air and my chest, snapping me out of my daze and drawing my attention to the firestorm that had erupted meters away and incinerated several Shinigami, leaving many more with horrific burns._

_The smell of cooking flesh invading my nose, overriding my other senses and throwing off my rhythm, the injured cries dragging all the way back to reality as I saw one Shinigami try and fail to speak his last words, collapsing in the sands of Hueco Mundo, just another casualty in a battle so much bigger than it should have been._

Reality hit me hard and my focus shattered like glass, the shards scattering in different directions, cutting me in the process, my speed and coordination and balance disappearing in an instant.

I crashed to the ground, disoriented and for some reason feeling an aching sense of loss in my chest. My fingers scrabbled in the torn-up walkway for my weapons, our connection now as disjointed as my thoughts, but old instincts died hard and I still had enough presence of mind to bring my swords up in a sloppy block that only barely stopped Kenpachi's overhead swing.

The captain didn't even seem to care that his clothes and skin were stained crimson from the wounds he'd already received. If anything, he seemed happy, still stuck in the euphoria I'd just abandoned.

Then again, I doubted he was stuck in any negative sense of the word. Kenpachi reveled in fighting; it was how he lived. It was his entertainment, his relaxation, his stress relief—it was his life, and would likely be his death. He knew how to handle his battle lust, turn it into a weapon sharper than even his sword, and wield it with all the deadly efficiency of a master.

And all I could do was experience for a brief moment—snatch it, really, before my mind could conjure up all the reasons I should not—before the spell broke and hurled me from that place, that separate plane of reality that so very few ever reached.

It was drifting farther and farther from my grasp with every passing day.

During the war it had been a constant state of mind for me; allies had been little more than shadows, patches of brief awareness while I focused on cutting down hollow after hollow, each one stronger than the last, until exhaustion worked its way into my bones and I had no choice but to drop back or risk dying, and only then had I dared to leave that state, when I was sure my allies were safe and we could relax as much as soldiers could in the middle of a war.

Kenpachi's foot caught me in the stomach and catapulted me through another wall, and then another, until a third forced me to think and then finally stop, panting, my body aching from the sudden use of a speed I hadn't properly worked up to. My right leg felt close to snapping, and my left was strangely numb.

The pain would go away soon; Instant Regeneration was already working on the worst of the muscle damage and would be finished within the time it took Kenpachi to reach me again.

But the pain wasn't the main problem. I needed to step up my training; already my skill level was regressing, whether from lack of practice or other reasons I didn't know I wasn't sure, but no matter the reason, the regression couldn't be allowed to continue. There was no telling what dangers lurked on the horizon and I would not be caught flat-footed.

Funny how ten minutes of battle could be so helpful.

Kenpachi was there again and I blocked his overhead strike, retaliating with a stab to his stomach that he hit away with his free hand. He took advantage of my opened defense with a punch, but Blut Vene was running beneath my skin and I barely felt the blow. My leg came up, my knee hitting Kenpachi's extended arm right in the elbow and bending it in all the wrong ways, producing an ugly snapping sound. The arm fell, limp and useless, but Kenpachi carried on unfazed.

His sword whipped around and I deflected the strike to my side, parried the one to my legs and ducked the one to my head, feeling it take a few hairs as compensation for missing my skull.

My cleaver hit his sword again and my smaller blade snuck through his guard, the captain was known as a monster for a reason and he twisted at the very last moment, sacrificing the bicep on his already useless arm. He twisted again, my blade digging and turning in his flesh but oddly stuck, and retaliated with a dizzying series of attacks that didn't reflect the fact that he had a sword stuck in his arm at all.

I defended as best I could with my arm in such an awkward position, only to let go of the sword and leap back when Kenpachi's Reiatsu skyrocketed again, because if I hadn't he probably would've been able to cut through my Hierro, which was only running at half strength.

That, and I wasn't about to risk my arm, Hierro or no. I'd never liked gambling, and my opponent's strength varied just as much as my own, depending on the situation.

Kenpachi paused for just long enough to yank my trench blade out of his arm and then toss it to me. The wound spurted blood but Kenpachi didn't even seem to notice or care.

I caught the blade, raised one eyebrow. Kenpachi shrugged.

"It's no fun if you're down a sword."

"I was holding my own with one sword a little while ago," I pointed out, but it was a half-assed defense. Kenpachi's snort only made it more obvious.

So I held onto the blade.

In the brief lull, I glanced around, taking note of the Shinigami that were peeking out from between buildings and on top of roofs. I wasn't sure if they were trying to be stealthy or simply trying to avoid being injured, but either way it was strange. I wasn't used to fighting with an audience. I glimpsed a shining head and a bright feather among the assembled Shinigami.

Kenpachi shifted his weight, and my focus narrowed back to the task at hand.

He charged forward and I caught his downward swing on my crossed blades, pushing back and breaking his momentum while spinning under his retaliatory strike to open up a shallow cut across his stomach. Kenpachi barely reacted to his most recent injury and brought his sword down again, so I used Shunpo to avoid the attack and stopped in the air behind him, blade going for the back of his neck.

Kenpachi dodged, spun, and aimed a punch at my stomach with the arm that _should've_ been unusable. I caught it on my sword and flew back a few meters, only for Kenpachi to catch up and reach out to grab my foot with his sword hand. Apparently his injured arm was a hindrance, whether he was actively showing it or not.

I yanked my limb out of his reach and substituted it with my cleaver, nearly taking off the captain's hand.

_He has to be using Reiatsu to reinforce the limb, or he'd never be able to do that._

Whispered comments and mutterings invaded my focus and I shut them out with a scowl.

The audience was getting _really_ annoying. Time to change locations.

I faced Kenpachi head-on and we exchanged blows, swords blurring with speed while sparks flew in the disturbed air every time our Zanpakutō met. The audience rapidly thinned as lower-ranked Shinigami passed out from the Reiatsu weighing down the atmosphere while even the seated officers struggled for air.

Seeing an opening when Kenpachi's blade went slightly to wide for his next attack, I swept through his guard, dropped my cleaver, and then braced myself, using my newly-freed right hand to grab Kenpachi's torn-up Shihakushō and hurl the giant man into the air, sending him skyrocketing over the buildings we'd been about to destroy.

Then I grabbed my cleaver before it even had a chance to hit the ground and took off after Kenpachi, the winds whipping at my face but feeling refreshingly cool.

Hopefully, the Shinigami wouldn't be able to follow. Of course, now I'd have to deal with a far more persistent group of people: the guards.

Awesome. But I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

Touching down near the crater that Kenpachi's return to solid ground had made, I glanced around, searching for the directionally challenged captain. Distantly, I sensed Yachiru's Reiatsu approaching at an alarming speed, and guessed that she was simply following the action, as she was prone to doing.

Kenpachi abruptly burst out of a nearby patch of bushes—why he had been searching in them, I didn't know—and we exchanged strikes once again.

Except now, I wasn't aiming for smooth deflection. I wanted destruction, preferably before the guards showed up to interfere.

Kenpachi struck and I flew through a gate that looked expensive, hearing it crack and tear from its hinges while I recovered and defended from Kenpachi's next attack.

The ground cratered around us, but I needed more.

So I leaped back, charging my swords with Reiryoku, and then swiped them in the air, forming a cross.

"Getsuga Jūjishō," I said simply, and the energy cross roared to life and obliterated the ground Kenpachi stood upon, throwing up a cloud of dust and making it difficult to see.

I dropped back down to the ground, easily locating Kenpachi through the dust. The captain was unbothered by the new obstacle, his grin still going strong, and even when I began pushing him back his incredible all-offense-no-defense swordplay never once faltered. His incapacitated arm hardly seemed to be a problem for him.

Still, I had an advantage with two blades, further bolstered by my experience and natural ability.

If anything, the challenge only made Kenpachi happier. If it was happiness that he was feeling, anyway. I couldn't tell, not with his grin stuck somewhere between manic and insane.

I ducked under his latest swing and then dove to one side to avoid the next, rolling and popping back to my feet just in time for Kenpachi's next attack to send me flying into the nearest building.

My breathing stuttered from the impact but it didn't do much more than shock me, and I was more than prepared to counter Kenpachi's assault when he attacked me again.

Now I mixed in more energy attacks, releasing heavily scaled down versions of Getsuga Tenshō into my regular sword swings to make them that much more destructive. I managed to switch positions with Kenpachi after a few seconds so that he was the one with his back to the building—

Which became a non-issue when I brought the wall tumbling down with a series of "accidental" missed swings.

Kenpachi was hardly buried for more than a second before he was on me again, and I continued to hold him off, causing even more damage in the process.

After almost half a minute more he caught me with a sudden kick, sending me flying towards another building. I caught myself and retaliated, but Kenpachi was ready—

_"He adapted to your style of combat remarkably quickly."_

**_"Dude's scary good in a fight, I'll give him that much."_**

He grabbed my ankle, just as he had tried and failed to do earlier, and hurled me into the surrounding trees. I felt several trunks give beneath me and shattered bark and leaves rained down. I'd probably gotten into sight of some of the residents, because people were screaming now, shrill noises that were somehow easier to block out than the curious stares of onlookers.

When our swords locked again the ground beneath us trembled, cracking slightly under the pressure. The air around us grew distorted, red-tinged black and golden Reiatsu flickering into visibility every few seconds.

"ENOUGH! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW, YOU HOOLIGANS! Just what do you think you're doing on noble property?!"

The guy sounded important, and used his voice with just the right amount of force to gain respect and obedience.

Kenpachi and I studiously ignored him and continued hacking at each other, though with a bit more grace than the naked eye could perceive.

_These were probably nice grounds before Kenpachi and I arrived._

The thought popped out of nowhere and I struggled not to smile at it.

**_"Oi, you missed that expensive looking fountain over—"_**

"Getsuga Tenshō!"

**_"Never mind. Nice shot."_**

_Thanks._

"STOP THIS!"

Whoever was shouting sounded rather shrill. Kenpachi and I continued to ignore him, and I redirected the fight back to the large, elegant building buried in the back of the property, nearly-but-not-quite hidden by trees. A barrier surrounded it, though the golden column looked as though it had seen better days. A massive crack ran through it and sections looked moments from collapsing. One more hit to the crack I'd created earlier with a wayward Getsuga Tenshō would send the entire thing crashing down.

If I struck it, it was likely that I'd gain the ire of the Kasumiōji even more than I already had by bringing Kenpachi down on their heads.

If Kenpachi brought the wall down, well, they couldn't really do much. If the guy wasn't a captain he'd be causing even more trouble, and there wasn't much that the Gotei Thirteen could do to punish him.

Kenpachi it was, then.

Putting my back to the failing barrier, I blocked Kenpachi's slash, countered with a sharp jab with my smaller trench knife, and then ducked when he retaliated with a thrust strong enough to—conveniently enough—destroy a Royal-Family-gifted Bakudō barrier.

The entire thing glowed brilliantly for a few seconds, blinding anyone dumb enough to keep staring, and then shattered, the pieces disappearing even as they fell to the ground.

Taking advantage of the time it would take for Kenpachi's eyes to adjust, I kicked his knee as hard as I could and then jumped back, putting my back to the door of the building.

_One more. Come on, Kenpachi._

The Eleventh Division captain glanced down at his knee, which was bent at a sickening angle and looked incredibly painful. Then he scowled and walked towards me, limping only as much as his injury necessitated—or even less than that.

_Does he even have a pain threshold?_

**_"Doubt it."_**

Kenpachi charged forward again and I dove to one side, watching his sword demolish the wall with ease.

I used Shunpo to get out of the range of the falling wall, watching in satisfaction as Kenpachi was buried. The guy's expression before the dust made it impossible to see was almost bored, like he'd just decided that the wall falling on him was more an inconvenience than anything else.

"WHAT ARE YOU FOOLS DOING?"

I finally turned and acknowledged the guy that had been yelling at me for the past few minutes. He moved remarkably fast, considering that our fight had been bouncing around the Kasumiōji grounds ever since I hurled Kenpachi into the middle of this place.

Time to play the clueless teenager.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, resting my cleaver over one shoulder in what was probably an intimidating position, if the man's paling face was anything to go by.

"Y-you cannot fight on noble grounds! Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused with your barbaric deeds?"

I blinked. "Trouble? Noble grounds?"

Sounds from behind me alerted me to the fact that Kenpachi was getting out of the rubble and I glanced at him. The aura of battle had disappeared, and Kenpachi knew it just as well as I did, so neither of us made a move to continue fighting.

"Oi, Kenpachi, did you know that this was a noble's place?" I questioned, for all the world looking like an oblivious rookie Shinigami.

The effect was instantaneous. The nearby guards drew back, fear in their eyes.

"K-K-K-Kenpachi?" The shrill man stuttered.

The captain spat in the rubble and rubbed his mouth, smearing the blood on his face and successfully making himself look positively demonic even without the grin on his face. "Eh? The hell are you talkin' about, Ichigo?"

This was too easy. "Well, this guy over here was saying that we've caused some trouble for the—"

"No!" The man interrupted. "It's fine! Really! No worries at all! We'll forget this ever happened if you would kindly leave immediately!"

"Really?" I looked back at him and grinned as insincerely as I could manage. "That's good. Unfortunately—"

Black-robed Shinigami abruptly appeared in a loose ring around us, Zanpakutō drawn and ready. Yoruichi appeared right next to me, a grin on her face, Suì-Fēng only a split second behind her.

"We won't be going anywhere," I finished.

* * *

Watching the Shinigami mop up the mess the Kasumiōji conspiracy had made wasn't all that entertaining, but I had little else to do and if I stepped off the grounds, Kenpachi would demand we finish our fight, and I couldn't do that. Yamamoto would kill me if he wasn't already planning on it. After all, Kenpachi and I had created a path of destruction across Seireitei during our fight earlier, and any more damage would just be rubbing salt in the wound.

Yeah, sticking around the Kasumiōji place was the safest bet.

_"Your plan worked, but I have a question, Ichigo."_

My Zanpakutō spirit's tone was somewhat reproachful and I had a good guess as to what was coming.

_Yeah?_

_"Why didn't you simply capture third seat Kibune and use his weapon as evidence? He would have given up the information if interrogated."_

I blinked, then grinned crookedly and stretched.

_Ah, what's the fun in that?_

"Ichigo!"

"Hey, Rukia," I greeted, seeing the petite Shinigami running up to me. "What's up?"

"What's up?" She repeated. "Are you insane? Why would you fight captain Zaraki? Do you have a death wish?"

"I'm not dead yet," I pointed out easily. She frowned at me, then glanced around.

"What were you doing fighting here, of all places?" Her eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious. "Were you—?"

"Some things are best left unasked," I interrupted. Seeing her expression, I softened my tone. "It's fine, Rukia, honest."

She was silent for a few seconds and the tension in the air dissipated—mostly.

"It's fine? It's _fine_?" Her fist was shaking and she pointed an accusing finger at our surroundings. "How is this _fine_, you numbskull? How are you going to explain this to Kenryū and Enryū, much less Rurichiyo?"

I looked at the smoking buildings now being swarmed by black-clothed Shinigami, the torn-up grounds that would take weeks to properly fix, the broken trees, the rubble that had probably been paths and artful décor, and then shifted my gaze to the icy-eyed Rukia. She glared hard at me, probably coming up with a ten-page list of all the rules I'd just violated in her mind while she prepared to tear me to shreds.

So, just to see if I could up that list to eleven pages, I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could manage and said, with no hint of apology in my voice,

"My bad."

* * *

_A/N I am so bad at writing long fight scenes. Anyway, this is a crappy chapter to end on for the next few months, but I didn't have much choice. Yeah, I'm going on hiatus; I've got a lot of stuff I need to do, so writing's gonna take a back seat. I will be back, though, and my profile will hopefully have updates and news for those of you that get curious._

_Reviews:_

_Blackseal84: I will eventually get to Senna, since apparently the Valley of Screams is now canon. Whether Senna can be saved or not . . . well, I won't spoil anything._

_Foreman88: Bet that changed._

_daloo92: Isshin has his suspicions. I do have plans for him and Ichigo._

_BrokenLifeCycle: I doubt I'll write anything in-depth about that in this story._

_SilverstormXD: Did you just . . . review your own review?_

_Kouru-Kage: Thank you! I don't think I can kill off Juha Bach off-screen. I already did that with Aizen in another story and people were very . . . confused. There will be more healing/stuff in the future. Eventually._

_jcampbellohten: Fixed! As for the school day thing, I tried to look up typical high school schedules in Japan and it was just blah, but I've got it now._

_toolazytologin: Well, that summary could replace the one at the top easily._

_ChiVall: Rurichiyo displayed an overt interest in vending machines in the anime, so Ichigo bought her a soda/juice thing. Yeah, it wasn't obvious._

_1000 Faces of Pain: Dying would be bad._

_Ice 88: I'm not doing Bounts because I'm lazy, and I will probably do Hell Verse, I don't know about Diamond Dust Rebellion._

_I don't know when I'll be back._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


	12. Chapter 12

_This story isn't dead yet! It's just...uh...fuck. Gimme a day or six, I'll figure a good word out. Maybe. Anyway, holiday update!_

_Short summary of events: Ichigo just kicked the crap out of the Kasumiōji plot. He's already killed Aizen and a large portion of the arrancar save the ones least likely to make random attacks on humans. If that hasn't jogged your memory, he's also been brooding like an angsty teenager for about 11 chapters now._

* * *

Chapter 12

I prowled the streets of Karakura Town, restless and agitated for reasons I couldn't pin down. My Zanpakutō spirits were oddly quiet in my head, perhaps sensing my tense mood. Not even the cool breeze or the mostly quiet night (as quiet as it could get in Karakura, at least) could calm me down.

The resolution of the Kasumiōji situation had only brought me momentary satisfaction. Now there were darker things looming on the horizon, problems that would require me to intervene in a far more personal way than I had in the Kasumiōji conspiracy. Not to mention the damned Hell dimension. If they tried to lay a _finger_ on Yuzu or Karin . . .

My scowl deepened just from thinking about it.

After ten minutes of pacing up and down the same street, I let out a frustrated groan.

"This is getting me nowhere," I muttered, tilting my head up to look at the sky. Thanks to the fact that I had been suppressing my Reiatsu more than I had the first time around, hollows were less common around the city than before, though they were still drawn to Karakura because of its abundance of Reishi. It gave me far fewer opportunities to take out my anger on hollows stupid enough to come to Karakura Town.

Fortunately, one such hollow ripped open a Garganta far too close to me and was eviscerated before even leaving the opening of its portal.

Unfortunately, the brief encounter did nothing to help me; in fact, it only made things worse. My fingers were tapping a restless rhythm on Zangetsu's hilt at my waist, and after trying and failing to stop myself for the third time, I gave up.

_Screw it. I need to talk to someone._

But who could I talk to? My dad was out of the question, as were most of my friends and family. Really, there were only two people that knew about my secret that were nearby: Kisuke and Yoruichi. I couldn't talk to Kisuke; I respected him immensely, but he wasn't the kind of person to go to for calming conversation unless it was a really desperate situation and he was the only person keeping perfectly calm.

Yoruichi, then. Hopefully the cat woman was at Kisuke's shop. She tended to wander around often, though from what I'd observed she'd been spending more time with the shopkeeper lately.

Probably because she was torturing him with the fact that _she_ knew more than _he_ did, which would drive Kisuke up the wall more than anything.

I would be willing to talk to Shinji—hell, I would _like_ to talk to Shinji—but he and the Visored were off doing their own thing at the moment and Kisuke wouldn't tell me where they were. I might have been able track them down, but knowing Hacchi it would take me way too long, especially since they'd been hiding from Soul Society for over a century. One lonely not-quite-teenager wouldn't have an easy time of finding them unless they _wanted_ to be found.

Plan set, I turned on my heel and began walking towards Kisuke's shop, deciding to avoid using Shunpo or Sonido to give myself slightly more time to cool off. If I could do so without talking to Yoruichi, I wouldn't be that upset, but I got the feeling that things weren't going to be that simple. I managed to reign in my Reiatsu, knowing that if I let too much slip my dad would be able to sense it from the house and he'd get even more worried than he already was.

_(Like I can't see the worried glances at the dinner table, Dad. You're not subtle and just _stop_ I'm _fine_.)_

Of course, I reminded myself, he was out on some stupid medical trip today. Even so, there was no point to just letting my Reiatsu leak out when I was perfectly capable of keeping it hidden. The fewer souls affected by my power—however slightly—the better.

Several minutes later, I walked into Kisuke's shop, raising an eyebrow at the slightly opened door. Was someone else there?

Footsteps silent, I ghosted forward, only to freeze when I heard a _very_ familiar voice.

"Kisuke, I'm worried about him. You know something; if it's that bad I need to know so I can _help_ Ichigo, not just comfort him for five minutes when those nightmares he's been having overwhelm the Kidō barrier he sets up!"

_Dad. So the medical conference was a lie, then. _

"And why does my son even have knowledge of a barrier like that? It's advanced stuff! He shouldn't know it at his age!"

_You know about that?_

"I'm worried for him, Kisuke. He's my son; I need to know what's going on."

I put a hand over my mouth and barely suppressed the wave of nausea that rolled through me. My stomach twisted but I forced myself forward, one hand raised, only for the limb to falter when Kisuke spoke up.

"Isshin, Ichigo trusted me with this information. I can't just give it to you, especially without his permission."

_Don't._

"What's stopping you? I'm his father, Kisuke."

_Don't._

"I'm well aware. I'm sorry, but I can't reveal your son's secrets as though they were my own. Not this time, Isshin."

The blood drained from my face and I lowered my hand from the door, all thoughts of intruding on the discussion to ask where Yoruichi was disappearing alongside my strength.

Kisuke wasn't giving up my secret, even to my dad.

Kisuke was keeping secrets.

For _me_.

Hating every passing second more and more, I sank to my knees (still staying quiet because of Yoruichi's stealth training and I'd be damned if I got discovered now) and tried to stop my body from shaking.

I heard my father sigh. "If that's how it is, Kisuke, then I'll respect that. But please, if something else happens—" he took a shuddering breath, every syllable he uttered a knife to my heart that was filled with memories of a dying yet still smiling man bleeding in my arms (_"I wanted to see you be happy, Ichigo" oh fucking _hell_, Dad_), "if something happens, let me know. Please."

_Don't. Please._

Kisuke's next words barely reached me over the sound of my heart pounding. "I will, Isshin. If it was something I thought your son couldn't handle, I would."

_Please don't._

"You don't have to defend yourself. It's just . . . my powers are almost completely recovered and—"

"You want to help your son."

_Don't . . . don't feel like you—_

"Yes, Kisuke, I do." I could hear the conviction in my father's voice and it made me feel sick. Every word he spoke was another twist of the knife. "Ichigo needs someone at his back, and he's already got his friends, but if he knows that Karin and Yuzu can be protected even if he's not there it'll be one less weight on his shoulders."

He knew me too well.

Dammit. I'd never realized he paid that much attention to me and how I viewed Karin and Yuzu; I knew that he'd figured out I was extraordinarily protective of the two, more than what may have been reasonable, but I never thought he'd evaluate just how _much_ I cared for my two sisters' well-being. Beneath his goofy exterior, my dad was still a Shinigami captain.

"You want to protect your son?"

"Yes, Kisuke, I do. Because he's only sixteen and he shouldn't have to do this alone."

I clenched my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut as pain wracked my core.

_I'm not sixteen._

I had always been the supporter of my family. After Mom had died, I'd taken up as many of her duties as I could, even going so far as to teach Yuzu the basics of cooking until she could reach the pots and pans by herself. When Karin needed help, I was there, and when she started showing an interest in soccer I went out to the fields with her to help her practice.

I'd spent the first few years after Mom died just protecting my sisters and making sure that my dad wasn't actually going off the deep end. Every bully that went after me had initially taken a jab at my sisters only to find out what the inside of an ambulance looked like minutes later.

Goat-Face had bailed me out of most of the trouble I got into, but in the end the responsibility of protecting my sisters and keeping them happy and safe fell to me. Even when I began to feel myself distancing myself from my family—because I would need to leave soon, go to college, and they needed to learn to fend for themselves—I still made an effort to stick by my sisters. Anyone that picked on Karin or Yuzu had to deal with Ichigo Kurosaki.

A few of my more paranoid teachers had called me a demon when they thought I wasn't listening, not that I cared. As long as my family and friends were safe, I was content with whatever came my way.

But I'd never felt the same thing in return. Sure, Karin and Yuzu had thanked me and done everything they could to help, but I'd been _their_ source of strength, an infallible barrier that protected them and not the other way around.

And Goat-Face, for all his ridiculousness at home, had always left me to my own devices when it came to fighting. He treated Karin and Yuzu like princesses and ignored me. I was fine with that.

But now . . . now he was paying attention. And he was _worried._

So were Karin and Yuzu. I could see it in their eyes and the way that Yuzu always gently prodded me with questions about my well being under the guise of being her usual caring self.

_("Do you want more food, Ichigo?" "Have you been sleeping, Ichigo?" "Are you feeling okay, Ichigo?" No, no, _no_.)_

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He's my son."

_Don't!_

There hadn't been anything like that in the war. I'd been _the_ frontline fighter of the army, charging ahead to save scattered Shinigami. They trusted me, knew that I could stand straight under my own power. Even when things got desperate, even when I fell apart, my friends hoisted me up and left it at that, trusting that I could handle it. To be fair, I had never given them any indication that I couldn't.

Because I _could_. And my dad—he should _know_ that I could handle it myself. I'd been doing it for years just fine! I didn't need someone else looking over my shoulder because I could see well enough on my own. Support was one thing but being this _concerned_, this _worried_ about me—

It didn't fit the father I'd known at all! Even in his dying moments the man had trusted me!

_Don't feel like you have to protect me!_

Something had changed and I didn't know what it was. They could see the cracks that I'd done everything I could to hide and smooth over. And for some reason, they felt that keeping me from falling apart was _their_ responsibility when it was only mine. It was my own damn fault for letting things get that bad anyway so why? _Why_?

I couldn't take it anymore. Blood roaring through my veins, legs shaking, eyes mostly unfocused, I staggered out of Kisuke's shop (still silent, still unable to reveal that my dad didn't _need_ to worry about me because maybe, just maybe, he _did_).

Somehow, I made it home, having recovered my body as I left Kisuke's shop. The scientist would probably figure out that I had been there during the night, but there was a chance he wouldn't confront me about it. I clung to that hope with pathetic desperation and jumped through the open window to my room (foresight was a fantastic thing), landing, for the first time in years, with an audible _thump_ when I tripped—_tripped_—over my own bed sheets.

I spent a while just lying on my back, staring up at my ceiling with an empty expression while I tried to ignore the way I felt all twisted up inside. Returning to my regular body didn't change the feeling in the slightest.

_Don't feel like you have to protect me!_

A choked noise forced itself out of my mouth and I shuddered, drawing into myself. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so goddamn much?

_Please._

I drew in a trembling breath.

_Don't._

"Dammit." I let it out slowly and tried to ignore the way my voice quaked. "Dammit all to Hell."

"I-Ichigo?" Kon. I'd forgotten about him. "Is everything all right?"

"No," I practically growled, seeing Kon step back in response to the malice in that single syllable. I quickly pulled myself together, sitting up and offering Kon a weak smile that only seemed to make him more disconcerted. "Just . . . go back to sleep, Kon."

"But—"

"Go _back_ to _sleep_, Kon," I ordered, filling my posture and tone with authority. "Please," I added softly, recognizing that I'd gone too far. Kon visibly flinched but backed off, returning to a space in my closet that he had cleared out. I walked over and gently shut the door before sealing it with Kidō.

I held my hand against the wood for a few seconds before balling it into a fist and resting my forehead against the door as well.

"Sorry, Kon."

With the sound-silencing Kidō that also trapped Kon in the closet, there was no way for the small mod soul to get out or let anyone know he was in there, at least for the night. I wasn't in the mood to talk to the perverted doll, even though he did have his moments. I just couldn't talk to anyone or anything right now.

Turning away from my closet, I took a step towards my bed, fully intent on collapsing and forcing myself into some semblance of sleep.

There was something on my bed. Something that wasn't normally there. How I hadn't noticed it before was beyond me, and I warily approached the object. It didn't _seem_ dangerous, but I'd been fooled before.

My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I reached out, picking up the object and examining it with a frown.

"A teddy bear?" I muttered, confused.

_Who would . . .?_

Realization—in the form of memories—hit me like a sledgehammer and dragged me away in an instant.

_"Big brother! It's my birthday!"_

_"Hey, Yuzu," Karin called from the stairs, a smile on her face, "don't forget that it's my birthday too!"_

_I smiled, reaching into my bag. "I got you both something."_

_"Really?" Karin and Yuzu both asked, their eyes going wide and shiny with wonder. "What is it?" they chorused, Karin quickly moving to stand next to her twin sister, all serious pretenses having been abandoned at the mere mention of a gift. _

_I just kept smiling, holding the two presents just barely out of their reach. "C'mon, just jump!"_

_They pouted and, had I not built up immunity to it, the adorableness they radiated would have knocked me over._

_"C'mon, Ichigo," Yuzu said, sticking her lip out. "I can't reach that!"_

_"Lower it!" Karin insisted, straining to reach the present hovering over her head. "C'mon, Ichigo, stop rubbing in how tall you are!"_

_"Are you jealous of my growth spurt?" I teased gently, lowering the presents to let Karin and Yuzu get them. The twins eagerly grabbed the gifts but politely waited for me to nod before opening them._

_Karin, the first to remove the wrapping paper, let out a whoop when she saw the videogame I had gotten her._

_"Thank you, Ichigo!"_

_Yuzu opened her gift and cooed, gently lifting it out of the wrapping paper and hugging it to her chest. "It's so cute, Ichigo! Thank you so much!"_

_"You're welcome, you guys," I said, ruffling their hair. "Here, give me the wrapping paper. I'll throw it away; you two go have fun."_

_While I was in the kitchen, my gaze flicked to the note pinned to the refrigerator in my dad's messy scrawl._

_'Ichigo, I have a sudden medical conference! Take care of Yuzu and Karin while I'm gone and let them know that daddy is so terribly sorry he missed their wonderful eighth birthday!'_

_I scowled at the note. The expression only went away that night, when I saw Yuzu fast asleep with the teddy bear I had given her clutched in her arms and a smile on her face._

I choked, my hand shaking. "Yuzu . . . why are you giving me this?"

Unintentionally, I tightened my grip. Loosening it when I felt the stitches beginning to give, I finally saw the note that had been hidden under the bear.

It was Yuzu's handwriting, rushed but still impressively neat.

_'Ichigo—you've been stressed lately so I thought having this would help! Karin won't say so, but she agrees!"_

I could practically picture Yuzu writing the letter and my insides twisted anew, slowly forcing me to my knees while I balled my hand into a fist and unintentionally crumpled the letter while clutching the bear to my chest like a child.

Yuzu had treasured the bear; even in the dark I could see how worn it was from the number of times Yuzu had played with it and dressed it up. She'd grown incredibly attached to it and whenever we'd had to travel too far she had always worried that it would grow lonely. She didn't even let Goat-Face get near the thing.

I swallowed, squeezing my eyes shut.

_Yuzu . . . you too, huh?_

A strangled half-sob pushed out of my throat and I forced myself to let go of the note or risk crushing it completely.

_So that's how it is. I guess I really do need protecting, then, if I can't even deal with something like this without breaking down._

I smiled bitterly, closing my eyes.

_It figures it was you who realized it, Yuzu. You've always been observant even if you don't know exactly what's going on._

Something dripped down my face and spilled over my lips, leaving a salty taste behind.

_I'm crying?_

The realization made the situation seem even more absurd and I grimaced, knowing that there was a tidal wave of sadness and despair buried in my heart, one that I had only skimmed the surface of. I hadn't realized it before, but it was a massive part of the pressing weight on my shoulders, the weight of deaths I hadn't been able to prevent, deaths that I should've been able to stop. It had never really hit me that it affected me that much; no wonder my dad had flinched the first time I'd seen him. He must have seen it in my eyes, however briefly.

Another tear slipped down my face and I rubbed it away.

_I haven't cried in so damn long._

Another sob threatened to force its way out but I pushed it down, swallowing around the lump in my throat while I blinked and rubbed away the rest of the wetness in my eyes. It took me a few minutes to calm my breathing and soon after the silence of the night settled around. Not even a stray hollow's cry filled the air.

I felt oddly clear, strangely empty. It was almost as though I had been drained of feeling, but not quite. There was space there now, room for connections I'd lost. This time, I was going to be strong. Strong enough to save everyone, strong enough for people to rely on me without needing to protect me. Strong enough to try again.

I held the bear tighter, new determination flaring inside me, and crawled into bed.

For the first time since I'd come back in time, I slipped into a dreamless sleep, holding Yuzu's teddy bear like a lifeline.

* * *

Groaning and trying to ignore the rapidly approaching footsteps coming toward my door in favor of gaining a few more seconds of quiet, I stretched and sat up in bed, blinking to clear my eyes. Something almost fell, but I grabbed it before it hit the ground and, recognizing the fuzzy material in my hands, realized I'd grabbed the bear.

A soft smile pulled at my lips, but there was only one thought running through my mind.

_It's one of those days._

Ever since the war, I had days every now and then in which I felt like a stranger in my own skin, like someone who didn't belong. It didn't matter how much I tried to deal with what had happened or who I talked to; the feeling persisted every few weeks.

At least it wasn't a total breakdown. I'd had more than enough of those lately. Even so, today was going to be difficult; I knew that much without even getting out of bed. Setting the bear aside, I got to my feet.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOD—" my father's voice interrupted my thinking and I winced at his impressive and still rising volume—"MOOOOOOOORNIIIIIIIIIIIIIING—" how the guy still had functional vocal chords was something I would never understand-"ICHIIIGOOOOOOO!"

My door burst open with a jarring bang. Goat-Face gracefully flew inside, his face stretched into a predatory grin that melted into a look of fear when he saw that I was already standing with one fist held out. Unable to stop himself in mid-air, my father, the incurable idiot, slammed face-first into my fist. He groaned and _un_gracefully fell to the floor.

"Good morning," I said tightly, one eyebrow twitching with annoyance. "What a great way to wake up your teenage son so early in the day. Get out before you run into my fist again."

He was up and smiling again in an instant. "Of course, my overly irritable and hormonal young son!"

My scowl was met by gleeful laughter as my dad left my room, chased by a pillow that narrowly missed his head. After the adrenaline from my father's ridiculous morning routine wore off, I sighed and fell back onto my bed, staring up at the blank ceiling with an equally blank expression.

**_"Hey. No goin ta school today, got it?"_**

_What? Why?_

**_"The last time this happened to ya, King, ya nearly blew up some idiot jus' trying ta give ya a report. School ain't happenin."_**

I slowly blinked. "Fine."

The spoken word sounded oddly final.

* * *

Skipping school entirely for the first time in a long time, I stayed in my room and simply stared at the walls while trying to figure out why I felt so _wrong_. Every time I thought I was getting close to the answer, it slipped away along with any level of concentration I had managed to build up.

Instead of trying to think I just listened to the rain pouring outside. A thunderstorm had rolled in early that afternoon and hadn't let up for hours. Lightning forked the sky and angry, rolling thunder soon followed, rumbling enough to shake my bones.

With a sigh, I turned over, staring at the doors to my closet.

"Ichigo! Dinner!"

I blinked. Had time really passed that quickly? I glanced at the clock. Yeah, it had. Getting up, I pushed my hair out of my eyes and mused that I'd need to get it cut again.

I slowly walked down the stairs, heeding Yuzu's call for dinner. My dad had already tried to ambush me as soon as I'd reached the bottom of the staircase and had been dealt with accordingly, but I still felt off.

_It's one of those days._

No matter how many times that thought bounced around in my skull, it couldn't change the fact that I hated every one of these days when my brain didn't seem to be in sync with my body. I wanted them to stop, to never come again, but they never did. Recurring and irritatingly crippling.

I could feel the worry of the other pieces of my soul, muted but there all the same. The hollowfied Zangetsu summed up the situation with an attempt at reassurance.

**_"Ya did go back in time. Hell, I'm surprised you're holdin' up as well as you are."_**

Though the words almost sounded callous, there was genuine concern in my hollowfied Zanpakutō's voice. I knew my Quincy side agreed with the sentiment.

"Thanks," I muttered as I walked into the kitchen. I made an effort to return my expression to its usual state. The smell of food reminded me that I'd had very little to eat that day. "Hey, Yuzu."

"Ichigo! We're having chicken and rice tonight, okay?"

"If you made it I'm sure it'll be delicious," I said, walking over to the table only to be interrupted by my father. His foot missed my face by centimeters and I ducked and whirled on instinct, catching him by the leg and slamming him into the floor hard enough to conceivably break bones. As usual, however, my father got up with no sign of injury.

"Oh, you're not getting in an attack like that without revenge!"

He came after me again and I grit my teeth in frustration because I just couldn't _focus_. One of my father's punches slipped through my guard, followed by a kick to my chest that sent me flying into a wall. It didn't break but the shock of the impact temporarily cleared my head enough for me to realize that I couldn't stay here tonight.

Yuzu was already shooting me worried looks. Karin, too. Even my dad was giving me a quizzical expression. He never broke through my guard that easily, not normally.

Their worry only made me think of the previous night and I grit my teeth, wishing I could go back up to my room and start the whole week all over again. Of course, it didn't work that way. Time stops for no man and all that shit.

"What's up, Ichigo? You usually block my famous spinning kick!"

I slowly got to my feet, glancing back at the wall to make sure that it wasn't damaged. Miraculously, there was no sign of even a dent. How my dad managed to get just the right enough force to send me flying without real damage was beyond me.

"I'm fine," I said quietly. I couldn't make eye contact with my family and I no longer felt even the slightest bit hungry. "I'm going out."

"In this storm?" Yuzu protested. She looked even more worried now. Upon seeing my shadowed expression, however, she must have realized that I wasn't going to be deterred. "Ichigo, at least take a jacket. And an umbrella; you don't want to catch cold."

"Look what you did, Goat-Face," Karin commented, her expression angry on my behalf. "It's your constant attacks that make Ichigo miss meals."

"Whatever," I said, walking away. "I'll be back soon."

I opened the door and left, hearing Karin chew out Goat-Face until the door closed and shut away her voice. Once outside, I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air hitting my skin. With one last glance back at the house, I began to walk.

The rain lashed against my skin, soaking my shirt and shorts and shoes almost immediately. A jacket would have been a good idea, but I wasn't going back, not after seeing Yuzu and Karin's obvious worry. I kept walking, every step painfully deliberate as I left my house. I couldn't be there tonight.

It hurt.

I walked through the storm, ignoring the flashes of lightning that lit up the heavens and split them for less than a second before fading to nothing. A car nearly hit me as I crossed the road but I ignored the driver's yelling. I couldn't make out the words over the wind and rain anyway.

The shop I had barely realized I was walking to loomed through the darkness and I walked opened the door, knowing without even caring enough to really check that Kisuke was already there. The shopkeeper stood a few meters away, his usual enigmatic smile plastered over his features.

"Wow, Ichigo, you look . . . wet." Kisuke's tone went from cheery to concerned to very worried in the space of five words and I looked up at him, making eye contact. Even the scientist, known for his half-truths and incredible ability to hide everything, couldn't stop his eyes from widening as his smile changed to a worried frown. "Ichigo?"

I swallowed, an action that had been growing steadily more difficult. Pained understanding dawned in Kisuke's eyes.

"Wait here," Kisuke ordered, his words harsh but his tone gentle. I shivered, dripping wet and cold and only now realizing that I was probably dirtying the floor of Kisuke's shop. When he returned with a soft towel that he wrapped around me, however, I couldn't see any hint of anger or reproach in him. I held the towel like a shield around me.

For a minute, I stood still, eyes shadowed by my hair while my throat closed up. My breath came in short, quiet gasps and my shoulders were shaking from cold and something else. Clenching my hands into fists did nothing to ease the pain and I could feel tears leaking from my eyes.

_Get it together!_

But I couldn't.

"It's heavy," I whispered, my voice coming out strained and nearly broken. "It's so damned heavy."

And then I walked past Kisuke. He didn't move and merely followed me with shadowed eyes, one hand holding his bucket hat down while the other reached out and held my shoulder, keeping me in place. He squeezed just once.

"Bear it," he said softly. "No one else can."

He let go and I had to put a hand over my mouth to stop any noise from coming out, though a strangled noise still broke through instead of the quiet thanks I had been trying to voice. Without bothering to say anything else—because I couldn't trust myself to say anything else—I staggered into the back room that Kisuke had opened. He'd probably sensed my turbulent Reiatsu the moment I left my home.

I closed the door behind me and took three steps before collapsing to my knees.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

What was I even doing here? What was the point? Why did I run from my own house, my own family? Why, why, _why_?

"Stupid," I muttered. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would you do that, you _idiot_?"

**_"Shut up."_**

"What?"

In a flash, the hollowfied portion of Zangetsu appeared in front of me, his eyes smoldering. **"You're so annoying. Why this, why that. Who the fuck cares? I'm sick of listenin' ta your complainin'. I tried ta be patient, I tried ta listen ta the Old Man, but you're _insufferable_." **He jabbed a finger into my chest hard enough to hurt, staring at the appendage while his irritated voice carried over the distant sounds of the storm. **"You shouldn't be questionin' _that_, King,"** he growled, shifting his finger to put it over my heart, **"ya should be questionin' _this_."**

I stared at his hand for a moment before batting it away with a scowl. "Now's not the time for a deep discussion, Zangetsu. I'm tired."

**"You're always tired!" ** Zangetsu snapped loud enough to startle me. Despite the fact that we were both sitting, he suddenly seemed bigger. **"Holy fuck, do you not even notice? Ya go from one hundred percent to zero in three minutes flat and walk away like everyone's s'posed ta recognize that! And then ya have the audacity to claim later that everythin's fine!" **He scowled. **"Stop being tired!"**

"It's not—"

**"Don't give me that crap," **Zangetsu interrupted. **"You're gonna say that it's not somethin' ya can help. Bull-fucking-shit. It's your body! Your mind!"**

"Stop!" I shouted. "I told you I don't want to hear this right now, Zangetsu! Listen to me!"

For the first time in months, Zangetsu looked me in the eye, set his jaw, and growled, **"No."**

"You—"

**"Oh, shut up, King. I'm a sword driven by your will, remember?"**

"What does that have to do with this?" I asked irritably.

**"You should know. If ya don't have the will, I don't work right. Same with the Old Man. Ya gotta want t' use us for something."**

"And?"

Zangetsu's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Mine narrowed right back, since he wasn't bothering to explain things in simple terms.

**"Fine. I'll make this nice and easy for ya, since you're being stupid."** Zangetsu took a deep breath, sat tall, and never broke eye contact. **"You might as well be dead."**

My retort died on my lips, replaced with a shocked, "What?"

Zangetsu leaned forward, recognizing that he'd caught me flat-footed. **"You're a dead man walking."**

I grit my teeth. "Oh? And why is that, huh?"

**"You've got no will ta live!"** Zangetsu's words cut through the air and his message stung like a whip. He took advantage of my speechlessness, spitting out I knew were true but didn't want to hear. **"You defeated Aizen. Whoop-de-fuckin'-do. And then what? Ya had no plan. Ya knew it, too, tried ta bullshit your way through it like the dumbass you are. But reality's catchin' up and you're not ready ta deal with it, so ya think that runnin' away and hidin' in someone else's home is gonna fix it? Think again! You should know by now that runnin' isn't ever an option for you! You stay and fight no matter what! You're the one on the battlefield that can't turn his back! So why the fuck are you running now?!"**

"I have nothing to fight for!" I snapped. "It's over, okay? I thought I could handle what came next but it's the same goddamn thing day after day after day and no matter how much I try to get back with how things should be I can't! Is that what you wanted to hear? I fucking _can't_!"

**"You can, and you _will_!"** Zangetsu roared, drawing one hand back and punching me across the jaw. Heat bloomed in my face and I fell to one side, catching myself on my elbow, shock numbing the pain. Zangetsu stood and planted his foot on top of me, keeping me from getting back up. Rage burned in his eyes, rage that he'd hidden for the past few weeks while I sulked and brooded. **"You're the king. ACT LIKE IT! Protect your crown or promises be damned I will take your body and destroy everything! Know that if you don't hold me back, if you don't drive my blade with a will of your own, my hunger will devour you whole! _That_ is what it means to wield me, to wield Zangetsu! Find your purpose!"**

"It's not that easy," I started, but Zangetsu was having none of it.

**"The hell it isn't. Why did ya come back?"**

"To defeat Aizen."

**"Beyond that!"**

I grit my teeth. "To stop my future from occurring again."

**"Wrong, wrong, wrong!"**

"To protect my friends and family!"

**"Finally! There's your purpose, King! You're a protector and the vanguard, so get it through your thick skull that if you're gonna be any good ta anyone, ya need a purpose, and that purpose is ta protect, whether you're protectin' the future itself or your friends and family."**

"I know all of this already," I said flatly. Zangetsu rolled his eyes, removed his foot, and crouched in front of me, slowly reaching out and putting his hand on my head. He began to squeeze uncomfortably tightly, making my skull ache.

**"Then why," **he hissed lowly, forcing me to make eye contact, **"have you been living with such dead eyes?" **He released my head, though the pain remained. **"Honestly, you're so stupid. Tryna act all tough when ya can't go a week without screaming inta your pillow. Toughen the fuck up, King. Stop runnin'. You're not that weak."**

I ground my teeth together. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. My Zanpakutō had taken everything I'd been trying to avoid and condensed it into an argument that simultaneously infuriated and mollified me with how true it was.

Zangetsu sighed. I glanced up at him, watching as he lost the rigid lines in his spine and shoulders, his posture going from angry to resigned in a split second.

**"Ya came ta Kisuke with no plan," **he said quietly. **"It's pourin' outside, the shopkeeper probably heard our little shouting match with his bugs 'n shit, and your family's gonna give you those worried looks the second you step through the door." **He turned to me, raising one eyebrow in challenge as he crossed his arms. **"Well, King, what're ya gonna do? Stay, leave, or a find an even more fun third option?"**

I frowned at him. "You're annoying, did you know that?"

Zangetsu spluttered. **"Don't ruin the moment, asshole!"**

Rolling my eyes, I slowly got to my feet. "Whatever. Thanks, Zangetsu. I…deserved that."

**"Ya did."**

I tried to shoot him an unamused look, but he returned to my inner world before I could.

"Cheater," I muttered. I walked out of the room, sliding the door shut behind me. Stopping by Kisuke's counter, I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and quickly wrote a note of thanks and a side note that he didn't have to worry about me.

It was still pouring outside, but I had one advantage now that I'd calmed down. Though I couldn't go very quickly, I was perfectly capable of using Shunpo in my human body. Stepping outside, I braced myself, and then shot to the rooftops, letting memory be my guide as I zigzagged from roof to roof. I nearly slipped a few times, but my reflexes saved me and I kept moving.

Going across town two times in one night was annoying, especially since it was storming so badly. Distantly, I heard a hollow's roar, and though I hesitated, I kept moving forward.

_I'm not the only Shinigami here that can defeat these hollows._

Not everything was my responsibility. I always forgot that.

Huh.

I'd resolved last night to start everything again. To give it another shot, to live. And then I'd woken up this morning and those late-night vows had faded with the sunrise. No doubt both sides of Zangetsu had been chafing at my inaction, at my inability to take the steps I needed to take. If I needed to start again, then I needed to mend a bridge I'd burned right at the start of everything, one that never quite fixed itself.

I arrived sooner rather than later and put my hand to the door, hesitating. Was this really the right choice? There were other people I could go to, other people who would understand and help, but—

_She's the only one that knows where it really started. She's the one that deserves to know._

I knocked three times and waited. After almost a minute, the door eased open, the person behind it widening their eyes.

"Ichigo? What are you doing outside in a storm like this?"

"Tatsuki, I need to talk to you."

She stared, only blinking when a flash of lightning lit up the sky behind me. Then she sighed. "Fine, fine. Get in before you drown. Wait here; I'll get you a towel."

Once I was relatively dry, Tatsuki and I sat across from each other on two chairs. She leaned forward, her expression as intense as ever.

"So, Ichigo, what's up? No offense, but you and I don't really talk much anymore. At least, not like before."

The jab was subtle but still clear.

"Sorry about that," I said. "I guess I got distracted, in a way."

"In a way? What's that supposed to mean? And why do you have a bruise on your jaw? Did you get into another fight?"

I gingerly poked at the injury, remembering Zangetsu's angry words, and sighed. "Yeah, something like that."

"Don't treat it like it's not a big deal!" Tatsuki got to her feet. "I'm going to get some ice."

"Tatsuki, really, I—"

"Shut up!" She glared at me, her annoyance written plainly across her face. "I'm being nice, so accept it."

I sighed, but I knew she was right and that I was in the wrong. "Okay. Sorry."

"Idiot," Tatsuki muttered as she walked to her kitchen. She came back a minute later and tossed me an ice pack. I pressed it against my jaw, only then realizing how much that area ached. The ice would hopefully decrease the swelling, but it would definitely be there tomorrow, and now that Tatsuki had seen how bad it was, I couldn't just heal it. Then again, with what I was about to tell her…

I took a deep breath and set the ice pack aside.

"What are you—" Tatsuki began, but she went silent when the swollen bruise on my jaw slowly disappeared, the skin returning to its normal, healthy shade in less than a minute. She stared, her mouth open in shock. "Ichigo…?"

"I haven't been honest with you at all, Tatsuki," I said quietly. "I haven't been for years. I came here to fix that." I tipped my head back, staring at the ceiling as though it could somehow give me the right thing to say. But there were no right things to say, not now; there was only the truth. "Remember that time when we were kids? You asked me whether I could see ghosts or not after all those rumors…and I told you I couldn't, and you believed me, and beat up anyone that tried to say otherwise."

"Ichigo…"

"But I lied. I lied because I was scared and stupid and young. I should have trusted you from the start but I was afraid that I'd drag you into my messes and you'd get hurt in the process. But that was wrong. You're strong and smart and you're my friend. So, I have to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying, Tatsuki." I met her gaze, resigning myself to whatever came next. "I _can_ see ghosts. And I can see a hell of a lot more than that, too."

Tatsuki's expression stayed shocked for all of two seconds before it morphed into annoyance. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Dumbass. I knew that. You think I haven't noticed all the strange crap that goes on around you, Orihime, Uryū, and Chad? Of course I have." She opened her eyes. "I was just waiting for you to suck it up and tell me the truth. Man, even when I did pressure you about it, you kept lying to me. I could see those ghosts you were fighting, those monsters, but you always pretended like they didn't exist until you pulled out a sword and began fighting them."

"You knew the whole time?" I asked. "But—the memory erasure—"

"You erased my memories?" Tatsuki's eyebrow twitched. "Seriously? Well, that explains a lot. Don't think I'm going to forget that."

I paled at her tone.

**_"Smooth."_**

"Anyway, I've known. That's _why_ I confronted you. Though, I'm glad you finally decided to come clean." She glanced out the window. "'Course, you could've picked a better time to do it. So why now?"

"It's…a long story."

She raised one eyebrow. "Ichigo, I highly doubt that you came here without the intent to tell me."

"Yeah, you're right." I cleared my throat. "If it's not too much trouble, could I have a glass of water?"

"Sure."

Two minutes later, Tatsuki was sitting across from me, ready to listen. I stared at my hands, debating where to start.

_"Always start from the beginning."_

_The beginning, huh? There's only one place for that._

I inhaled and then exhaled, finding a rhythm, and then spoke. "When I was nine, my mother died in a Hollow attack."

* * *

By the time I finished, my throat was dry and I'd already had three glasses of water. The storm had died down to spiteful bouts of rain and the lightning and thunder had moved on. Tatsuki had her lips parted slightly, but over the course of my story she had numbed to the shock somewhat.

I took a drink, draining the last of glass number four. Setting it down, I turned to Tatsuki. "That's all." The corners of my lips twitched up with dry humor when she didn't immediately react. "Don't tell me you were expecting more."

Tatsuki recovered quickly. "Oh, be quiet. I'm just…thinking. You're…what, twenty-something?"

"Twenty-five," I said, and then paused. "I think."

"You don't even know?!" She calmed herself down. "Jeez, you're such a troublemaker, Ichigo. I expected something bad, but this…man, not this. The future? A war? The end of everything?"

"Not everything," I said. "We survived. I came back."

She shot me a dry look. "You know what I meant. And you've just been living your life like this for weeks now."

"Yeah."

"How have you not gone insane?" She demanded, catching me off guard.

"Eh?"

"You're hopeless! Ichigo, everyone knows that once you settle into a routine, breaking it is borderline painful. You've been trying to break the routine of war for months now, and you never did, but you're trying to pretend like you have!"

"I—"

"Don't talk, I'm trying to impart some knowledge on you. Listen, from what I understand, you've basically broken a bone."

_What?_

"War, fighting, never catching a break, that broke whatever 'normal' bone you had in your body. You tried to set it, but it hasn't healed and you're forcing the injury, which is only making it worse. It's common medical knowledge."

"I think you're forcing the metaphor."

"Shut up, you." She set down the pillow she'd almost thrown at me and sighed. "But you get my point."

"Yeah, I do. It's valid, but—" I frowned, "I honestly don't know what to do about it."

"This," Tatsuki said simply. "Talking. Listening. You're already more relaxed than you were when you walked in here."

"You don't know that for sure," I pointed out. She nodded.

"You're right. But would it hurt to keep testing it?"

I thought about that. "No, probably not."

"Probably? Has your skull gotten thicker lately?"

"Have you gotten ruder lately?"

"Have you gotten dumber lately?"

We glared at each other and then looked away with grins on our faces.

"Dumbass," Tatsuki muttered under her breath. I could hear her, though I doubted that she intended for me to. "You should've told me sooner."

* * *

_A/N I live! The story lives! Ichigo lives! And Tatsuki is still a character that exists!_

_Honestly, I'm pretty pressed for writing time lately and writer's block has me writing one sentence a week, but I'm hoping I'll find my inspiration again. I had it briefly for this chapter - the Zangetsu argument, which was fun to write - but it's gone again, of course. Basically, I'll be back, but I have no idea when._

_Reviews:_

_Lightningblade49: Probably, at least a little bit._

_Painlover792: Uhhhhh...right. That story. Erm...I'm working on it?_

_Krazyfanfiction1: It's probably possible, but not plausible. Zangetsu's only really got an interest in teaching Ichigo, and neither Ichigo nor Uryu would think of that idea on their own._

_clw123cat: I'm not going to do that movie because of laziness and the fact that I just don't want to. And what do you mean by "soaring" Senna with Ichigo? Did you mean pairing? Because no._

_Guest: ...I kind of suck at continuity. Whoops._

_00mb00: The Murumasa one? Yes._

_The King in White: I'm not gonna do the Bount arc (see response to clw123cat if you're wondering why), and Ichigo never fought the Quincies in this story. He left too early to see them emerge._

_kevin: I can really only speak English and a tiny smattering of Spanish. But google translate says that that was a compliment, so thank you!_

_I'm so tired. So, so tired._

_-RoR_

**_Please review._**


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